CHAPTER VI

DINAPORE AND PATNA, 1807-1809

Until, in 1852 and the ten years following, Lord Dalhousie's railway

up the Ganges valley was completed to Allahabad, the usual mode of

proceeding up-country from Calcutta was by the house-boat known as the

budgerow, which is still common on the many rivers of Bengal where

English planters and officials are found. At the rate of twenty-five

miles a day the traveller is towed up against stream by the boatmen.

When time is no object, and opportunities are sought for reading,

shooting, and intercourse with the natives, the voyage is delightful

in the cool season. Henry Martyn rejoiced in six weeks of this

solitary life--alone yet not alone, and ever about his Father's

business. His studies were divided between Hindustani and Sanskrit; he

was much occupied in prayer and in the reading of the Greek and Hebrew

Scriptures. Morning and evening he spent himself among the people on

the banks, and at the ghauts and bazaars of the mighty river,

preaching Christ and spreading abroad the New Testament. The dense

population and the spiritual darkness, as the panorama of native life

moved hourly before his eyes, on river and on land, stirred up the

busiest of Christians to be still busier, in spite of his fast-wasting

body; '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!' His gun supplied him with small game,

'enough to make a change with the curry.'

At Cutwa, one of Carey's mission stations, he had fellowship with

Chamberlain, receiving that 'refreshment of spirit which comes from

the blessing of God on Christian communion.' 'Tell Marshman,' he

wrote, 'with my affectionate remembrance, that I have seriously begun

the Sanskrit Grammar.' To Ward he sends a list of errata which he

found in a tract in the Persian character. He had his Serampore

moonshi with him. At Berhampore, soon to be occupied by Mr. Parson as

chaplain, and by the London Missionary Society, he spent some time,

for it was the great military station of the old Nawab Nazim's

capital, Moorshidabad, which Clive described as wealthier than London,

and quite as populous. Henry Martyn at once walked into the hospital,

where the surgeon immediately recognised him as an old schoolfellow

and townsman. But even with such help he could not induce the men to

rise and assemble for Divine service. 'I left three books with them

and went away amidst the sneers and titters of the common soldiers.

Certainly it is one of the greatest crosses I am called to bear, to

take pains to make people hear me. It is such a struggle between a

sense of propriety and modesty on the one hand, and a sense of duty on

the other, that I find nothing equal to it.' At Rajmahal, like Carey

six years before, he met some of the hill tribes--'wrote down from

their mouth some of the names of things.'

At Maldah he was in the heart of the little Christian community which,

under Charles Grant twenty years before, had proved the salt of

Anglo-Indian society, and had made the first attempt with Carey's

assistance to open vernacular Christian schools. With Mr. Ellerton,

whose wife had witnessed the duel between Warren Hastings and Philip

Francis, and who as a widow indeed lived to the Mutiny of 1857 as the

friend of Bishop Daniel Wilson, he went to Gomalty, and visited one of

the schools. 'The cheerful faces of the little boys, sitting

cross-legged on their mats round the floor, much delighted me. While

they displayed their power of reading, their fathers, mothers, etc.,

crowded in numbers round the door and windows.' Here we see the now

vast educational system of Bengal in the birth. Not less striking is

the contrast, due to the progress of that system on its missionary

side, when we find Martyn, in 1806, recording his surprise at the

extraordinary fear and unwillingness of the people to take tracts and

books. One postmaster, when he found what the booklet was about,

returned it with the remark that a person who had his legs in two

boats went on his way uncomfortably. Passing Colgong and Monghyr, he

'reached Patna. Walked about the scene of my future ministry with a

spirit almost overwhelmed at the sight of the immense multitudes.' On

November 26 he arrived at Dinapore--'the multitudes at the water-side

prodigious.'

Nowhere, in British India as it was in 1807, could Henry Martyn have

found a better training field, at once as chaplain to the troops and

missionary to the Mohammedans, than the Patna centre of the great

province of Bihar. For fourteen miles, Patna, the Mohammedan city,

Bankipore, the British civil station, and Dinapore, the British

military station, line the right bank of the Ganges, which is there

two miles broad. Patna itself--'the city,' as the word means--was the

Buddhist capital to which the Greek ambassador Megasthenes came from

Seleukos Nikator, 300 B.C., and the Chinese pilgrim, Hwen T'sang, 637

years A.D. But under the Mogul emperors and down to the present day,

Patna has been the focus of the most fanatical sect of Islam. There

Meer Kasim murdered sixty Englishmen in 1763; and so little did a

century's civilisation affect the place, which Christian missionaries,

except Martyn, neglected till recently, that in 1857 it was a centre

of the Mutiny, and in 1872 it was the nucleus of Wahabi rebellion. The

second city in Bengal next to Calcutta, and the fifth city in all

India in inhabitants, Patna with Bankipore and Dinapore commanded an

accessible native population of half a million. Such was Henry

Martyn's first 'parish' in the East. For the mass of these he opened

schools and translated the Word of God; with their learned men he

'disputed' continually, in the spirit of Paul seeking to commend to

them the very Christ.

Besides the Company's civil servants in Bankipore whom he never ceased

to influence, he was specially charged with the spiritual care of two

European regiments, consisting at one time of 1,700 men and 80 officers

in various positions. Then and up till 1860, when what was known as 'the

White Mutiny' led the Queen's Government to disband the troops, the East

India Company had a European force of its own, specially recruited and

paid more highly than the royal regiments. The men were generally better

educated than the ordinary private of those days, were, indeed, often

runaway sons of good families and disreputable adventurers from many

countries. As a fighting force they were splendid veterans; in all other

respects their history and character as well as his own experience of

them on board ship, justified Martyn's language in a letter to Mr.

Brown. 'My disdainful and abandoned countrymen among the military; they

are impudent children and stiff-hearted, and will receive, I fear, my

ministrations, as all the others have done, with scorn. Yet Jesus wept

over Jerusalem. Henceforward let me live with Christ alone.' How loving

and faithful, if not always tender, his ministry was among them and

their native women, and how it gained their respect till it formed a

little Church in the army, we shall see.

Having settled down in barrack apartments at 50 rupees a month till he

should get a house against the hot season, and having called on the

general commanding and others, after the Anglo-Indian fashion, he

reported to his longing friends in Aldeen: 'I stand alone;[26] not one

voice is heard saying, "I wish you good luck in the name of the Lord."

I offered to come over to Bankipore to officiate to them on the

Sabbath. They are going to take this into consideration. I have found

out two schools in Dinapore. I shall set on foot one or two schools

without delay, and by the time the scholars are able to read we can

get books ready for them.' In this spirit and by a renewed act of

self-dedication he entered on the year 1807:

Seven years have passed away since I was first called of God.

Before the conclusion of another seven years, how probable is it

that these hands will have mouldered into dust! But be it so: my

soul through grace hath received the assurance of eternal life,

and I see the days of my pilgrimage shortening without a wish

to add to their number. But oh, may I be stirred up to a

faithful discharge of my high and awful work; and laying aside,

as much as may be, all carnal cares and studies, may I give

myself to this 'one thing.' The last has been a year to be

remembered by me, because the Lord has brought me safely to

India, and permitted me to begin, in one sense, my missionary

work. My trials in it have been very few; everything has turned

out better than I expected; loving-kindness and tender mercies

have attended me at every step: therefore here will I sing His

praise. I have been an unprofitable servant, but the Lord hath

not cut me off: I have been wayward and perverse, yet He has

brought me further on the way to Zion; here, then, with

sevenfold gratitude and affection, would I stop and devote

myself to the blissful service of my adorable Lord. May He

continue His patience, His grace, His direction, His spiritual

influences, and I shall at last surely come off conqueror. May

He speedily open my mouth, to make known the mysteries of the

Gospel, and in great mercy grant that the heathen may receive it

and live!

The hostility of the officers and civilians to his message sometimes

became scorn, when they saw his efforts to teach and preach to the

natives. These were days when the Patna massacre was still remembered.

So few baptized Christians knew the power of the Faith which they

practically dishonoured, that they had no desire to make it known to

others; many even actually resented the preaching of Christ to the

people, as both politically dangerous and socially an insult to the

ruling race. This feeling has long since disappeared in India at

least, though its expression is not unknown in some of the colonies

where the land is held by the dark savages. Henry Martyn keenly felt

such opposition, and none the less that the natives of the Patna

district--especially the Mohammedans--were in their turn hostile to a

government which had supplanted them so recently. A few weeks after

his arrival we find him writing this in his _Journal_:

_1806, December 1._--Early this morning I set off in my

palanquin for Patna. Something brought the remembrance of my

dear Lydia so powerfully to my mind that I could not cease

thinking of her for a moment. I know not when my reflections

seemed to turn so fondly towards her; at the same time I

scarcely dare to wish her to come to this country. The whole

country is manifestly disaffected. I was struck at the anger and

contempt with which multitudes of the natives eyed me in my

palanquin.

_December 2._--On my way back called on Mr. D., the Judge, and

Mr. F., at Bankipore. Mr. F.'s conversation with me about the

natives was again a great trial to my spirit; but in the

multitude of my troubled thoughts I still saw that there is a

strong consolation in the hope set before us. Let men do their

worst, let me be torn to pieces, and my dear L. torn from me; or

let me labour for fifty years amidst scorn, and never seeing one

soul converted; still it shall not be worse for my soul in

eternity, nor worse for it in time. Though the heathen rage and

the English people imagine a vain thing, the Lord Jesus, who

controls all events, is my friend, my master, my God, my all. On

the Rock of Ages when I feel my foot rest my head is lifted up

above all mine enemies round about, and I sing, yea, I will sing

praises unto the Lord. If I am not much mistaken, sore trials

are awaiting me from without. Yet the time will come when they

will be over. Oh, what sweet refuge to the weary soul does the

grave appear! There the wicked cease from troubling, and there

the weary are at rest. Here every man I meet is an enemy; being

an enemy to God, he is an enemy to me also on that account; but

he is an enemy too to me because I am an Englishman. Oh, what a

place must heaven be, where there are none but friends! England

appears almost a heaven upon earth, because there one is not

viewed as an unjust intruder; but, oh, the heaven of my God! the

general assembly of the first-born, the spirits of the just made

perfect, and Jesus! Oh, let me for a little moment labour and

suffer reproach!

_1807, January 2._--They seem to hate to see me associating at

all with the natives, and one gave me a hint a few days ago

about taking my exercise on foot. But if our Lord had always

travelled about in His palanquin, the poor woman who was healed

by touching the hem of His garment might have perished. Happily

I am freed from the shackles of custom; and the fear of man,

though not extirpated, does not prevail.

_January 8._--Pundit was telling me to-day that there was a

prophecy in their books that the English should remain one

hundred years in India, and that forty years were now elapsed of

that period; that there should be a great change, and they

should be driven out by a king's son, who should then be born.

Telling this to moonshi, he said that about the same time the

Mussulmans expected some great events, such as the coming of

Dujjel, and the spread of Islam over the earth.

_January 29._--The expectation from prophecy is very prevalent

hereabouts that the time is coming when all the Hindus will

embrace the religion of the English; and the pundit says that in

many places they had already begun. About Agra, and Delhi, and

Narwa, in the Mahratta dominions, there are many native

Christian families.

Henry Martyn's occupation of the Aldeen Pagoda had resulted, after his

departure, in the formation, by Brown, Corrie, Parson, and Marmaduke

Thompson, the Madras chaplain, of what would now be called a clerical

club, with these three objects--to aid the British and Foreign Bible

Society, then recently established; to help forward the translation of

the Scriptures into the languages of the East; and especially to meet

the whole expense of the Sanskrit and Greek Testaments, and to send on

to Mr. Brown, for circulation, a quarterly report of the prospects,

plans, and actual situation of each member so far as the Church is

concerned. Of this Evangelical Anglican Brotherhood Martyn seems to

have been the most active member during his brief career. His

translations were made for it, in the first instance. 'The Synod', or

'the Associated Clergy,' as he called it at different times, when as

yet there was no Bishop of Calcutta, consciously linked him to the

fellowship of the Saints, to the Church and the University from which

he had come forth. We find him noting seven years after 'the day I

left Cambridge: my thoughts frequently recurred with many tender

recollections to that beloved seat of my brethren, and again I

wandered in spirit amongst the trees on the banks of the Cam.'

The letters from these four chaplains cheered him at Dinapore when he

was 'very much depressed in spirits,' and he hastens to write to each,

giving this picture of his life:

From a solitary walk on the banks of the river I had just

returned to my dreary rooms, and with the reflection that just

at this time of the day I could be thankful for a companion, was

taking up the flute to remind myself of your social meetings in

worship, when your two packages of letters, which had arrived in

my absence, were brought to me. For the contents of them, all I

can say is, Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me

bless His holy name! The arrival of another dear brother, and

the joy you so largely partake of in fellowship with God and

with one another, act as a cordial to my soul. They show me what

I want to learn, that the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, and

that they that keep the faith of Jesus are those only whom God

visits with His strong consolations. I want to keep in view that

our God is the God of the whole earth, and that the heathen are

given to His exalted Son, the uttermost parts of the earth for a

possession.

Continually his love of music breaks forth alike for the worship of God

and the association of friendship and affection. His correspondence with

Brown was regular, but as that of a son with a father. His letters to

Corrie, his old Cambridge junior, are frank and free. His joy was great

when Corrie was stationed at the rock-fortress of Chunar, not very far

from Dinapore, so that they occasionally met and officiated for each

other. But up to this time his chief, his almost fearful human, delight

was to think of Lydia by night and by day.

_1806, December 10._--A dream last night was so like reality,

and the impression after it was so deep upon my spirits, that I

must record the date of it. It was about Lydia. I dreamt that

she had arrived, but that after some conversation I said to her,

'I know this is a dream; it is too soon after my letter for you

to have come.' Alas! it is only a dream; and with this I awoke,

and sighed to think that it was indeed only a dream. Perhaps all

my hope about her is but a dream! Yet be it so; whatever God

shall appoint must be good for us both, and with that I will

endeavour to be tranquil and happy, pursuing my way through the

wilderness with equal steadiness, whether with or without a

companion.

_December 14._ (Sunday.)--Service performed by an after order,

at ten o'clock. The general was present, about twenty officers,

and some of their ladies. I preached on the parable of the tares

of the field. Much of the rest of the day I was in great

distraction, owing to the incessant recurrence of thoughts about

Lydia. My impatience and fear respecting her sometimes rose to

such a height that I felt almost as at Falmouth, when I was

leaving Europe, as I thought to see her no more. But in the

evening it pleased the Lord to show me something of the awful

nearness of the world of spirits, and the unmeasurable

importance of my having my thoughts and cares devoted to my

missionary work. Thus I obtained peace. I prayed in sincerity

and fervour, that if there were any obstacle in the sight of

God, the Lord might never suffer us to meet.

_December 21._ (Sunday.)--In the evening, after a solemn season

of prayer, I received letters from Europe, one from Cousin T.,

Emma, Lydia, and others. The torrent of vivid affection which

passed through my heart at receiving such assurances of regard

continued almost without intermission for four hours. Yet, in

reflection afterwards, the few words my dearest Lydia wrote

turned my joy into tender sympathy with her. Who knows what her

heart has suffered! After all, our God is our best portion; and

it is true that if we are never permitted to meet, we shall

enjoy blissful intercourse for ever in glory.

_December 22._--Thinking far too much of dear Lydia all day.

_December 23._--Set apart the chief part of this day for prayer,

with fasting; but I do not know that my soul got much good. Oh,

what need have I to be stirred up by the Spirit of God, to exert

myself in prayer! Had no freedom or power in prayer, though some

appearance of tenderness. Lydia is a snare to me; I think of her

so incessantly, and with such foolish and extravagant fondness,

that my heart is drawn away from God. Thought at night, Can that

be true love which is other than God would have it? No; that

which is lawful is most genuine when regulated by the holy law

of God.

_December 25._--Preached on 1 Tim. i. 15 to a large

congregation. Those who remained at the Sacrament were chiefly

ladies, and none of them young men. My heart still entangled

with this idolatrous affection, and consequently unhappy.

Sometimes I gained deliverance from it for a short time, and was

happy in the love of God. How awful the thought, that while

perishing millions demand my every thought and care, my mind

should be distracted about such an extreme trifle as that of my

own comfort! Oh, let me at last have done with it, and the

merciful God save me from departing from Him, and committing

that horrible crime of forsaking the fountain of living waters,

and hewing out to myself broken cisterns.

As the delightful cold season of the Bihar uplands passed all too

quickly, and the dry hot winds of Upper India began to scorch its

plains, the solitary man began to think it 'impossible I could ever

subsist long in such a climate.' From April 1807 his hereditary

disease made rapid advances, while he reproached himself for lassitude

and comparative idleness, and put additional constraint on himself to

work and to pray unceasingly. From this time his _Journal_ has

frequent records of sickness, of loss of appetite, and of 'pain' in

his ministrations, ending in loss of voice altogether for a time.

Corrie and Brown and his other correspondents remonstrated, but they

were at a distance. He needed a watchful and authoritative nurse such

as only a wife could be, and he found only lack of sympathy or active

opposition. He lived, as we can now see, as no white man in the

tropics in any rank of life should live, from sheer simplicity,

unselfishness, and consuming zeal. When the hot winds drove him out of

the barracks, the first rainy season flooded his house. At all times

and amid the insanitary horrors of an Indian cemetery he had to bury

the dead of a large cantonment in a sickly season. His daily visits to

the hospital were prolonged, for there he came soul to soul with the

sinner, the penitent, and the rejoicing. And all the time he is

writing to Corrie and each of his friends, 'I feel anxious for your

health.' To marry officers and baptize children he had to make long

journeys by palanquin, and expose his wasting body alike to heat and

rain. But amid it all his courage never fails, for it is rooted in

God; his heart is joyful, for he has the peace that passeth all

understanding.

_1807, May 18._--Through great mercy my health and strength are

supported as by a daily miracle. But oh, the heat! By every

device of darkness and tatties I cannot keep the thermometer

below 92°, and at night in bed I seem in danger of suffocation.

Let me know somewhat more particularly what the heat is, and how

you contrive to bear it. The worst bad effect I experience is

the utter loss of appetite. I dread the eating time.

_July 7._--Heat still so great as to oblige me to abandon my

quarters.

_July 8._--Went to Bankipore to baptize a child. One of the

ladies played some hymn-tunes on my account. If I were provided

with proper books much good might be done by these visits, for I

meet with general acceptance and deference. In the evening

buried a man who had died in the hospital after a short illness.

My conscience felt again a conviction of guilt at considering

how many precious hours I waste on trifles, and how cold and

lukewarm my spirit is when addressing souls.

_August 23._ (Sunday.)--Preached on Job xix. 25-27: 'I know that

my redeemer liveth.' There seemed little or no attention; only

one officer there besides Major Young. At Hindustani prayers,

the women few, but attentive; again blest with much freedom; at

the hospital was seized with such pain from over-exertion of my

voice, that I was obliged to leave off and go away.

To Brown he writes: 'The rains try my constitution. I am apt to be

troubled with shortness of breath, as at the time I left you. Another

rainy reason I must climb some hill and live there; but the Lord is

our rock. While there is work which _we_ must do, we shall live.'

Again in the early Sunday morning of August he dreamed--

That as I was attacked so violently in July, but recovered, at

the same time next year I should be attacked again, and carried

off by death. This, however, would only be awaking in a better

world. If I may but awake up satisfied with Thy likeness, why

shall I be afraid? I think I have but one wish to live, which

is, that I may do the Lord's work, particularly in the Persian

and Hindustani translations; for this I could almost feel

emboldened to supplicate, like Hezekiah, for prolongation of

life, even after receiving this, which may be a warning.

After six months' experience of his Dinapore-cum-Patna parish, Martyn

sent in 'to the Associated Clergy' the first quarterly report of his

own spiritual life, and of his work for others.

_April 6._--I begin my first communication to my dear and

honoured brethren, with thankfully accepting their proposal of

becoming a member of their society, and I bless the God and

Father of our Lord Jesus Christ for this new instance of His

mercy to His unworthy creature. May His grace and favour be

vouchsafed to us, and His Holy Spirit direct all our

proceedings, and sanctify our communications to the purposes for

which we are united.

On a review of the state of my mind since my arrival at

Dinapore, I observe that the graces of joy and love have been at

a low ebb. Faith has been chiefly called into exercise, and

without a simple dependence on the Divine promises I should

still every day sink into fatal despondency. Self-love and

unbelief have been suggesting many foolish fears respecting the

difficulties of my future work among the heathen. The thought of

interrupting a crowd of busy people like those at Patna, whose

every day is a market-day, with a message about eternity,

without command of language sufficient to explain and defend

myself, and so of becoming the scorn of the rabble without doing

them good, was offensive to my pride. The manifest disaffection

of the people, and the contempt with which they eyed me,

confirmed my dread. Added to this the unjust proceedings of many

of the principal magistrates hereabout led me to expect future

commotions in the country, and that consequently poverty and

murder would terminate my career.

'Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof'--'As thy days are

so shall thy strength be,' were passages continually brought to

my remembrance, and with these at last my mind grew quiet. Our

countrymen, when speaking of the natives, said, as they usually

do, that they cannot be converted, and if they could they would

be worse than they are. Though I have observed before now that

the English are not in the way of knowing much about the

natives, yet the number of difficulties they mentioned proved

another source of discouragement to me. It is surprising how

positively they are apt to speak on this subject, from their

never acknowledging God in anything: 'Thy judgments are far

above out of his sight.' If we labour to the end of our days

without seeing one convert, it shall not be worse for us in

time, and our reward is the same in eternity. The cause in which

we are engaged is the cause of mercy and truth, and therefore,

in spite of seeming impossibilities, it must eventually prevail.

I have been also occasionally troubled with infidel thoughts,

which originated perhaps from the cavillings of the Mohammedans

about the person of Christ; but these have been never suffered

to be more than momentary. At such times the awful holiness of

the Word of God, and the deep seriousness pervading it, were

more refreshing to my heart than the most encouraging promises

in it. How despicable must the Koran appear with its mock

majesty and paltry precepts to those who can read the Word of

God! It must presently sink into contempt when the Scriptures

are known.

Sometimes when those fiery darts penetrated more deeply, I found

safety only in cleaving to God, as a child clasps to his

mother's neck. These things teach me the melancholy truth that

the grace of a covenant God can alone keep me from apostasy and

ruin.

The European society here consists of the military at the

cantonment and the civil servants at Bankipore. The latter

neither come into church nor have accepted the offer of my

coming to officiate to them. There is, however, no contempt

shown, but rather respect. Of the military servants very few

officers attend, and of late scarcely any of the married

families, but the number of privates, and the families of the

merchants, always make up a respectable congregation. They have

as yet heard very little of the doctrines of the Gospel. I have

in general endeavoured to follow the directions contained in Mr.

Milner's letter on this subject, as given in Mr. Brown's paper,

No. 4.

At the hospital I have read Doddridge's _Rise and Progress_, and

_The Pilgrim's Progress_. As the people objected to extempore

preaching at church, I have in compliance with their desires

continued to use a book. But on this subject I should be glad of

some advice from my brethren.

I think it needless to communicate the plans or heads of any of

my sermons, as they have been chiefly on the Parables. It is of

more importance to observe that the Word has not gone forth in

vain, blessed be God! as it has hitherto seemed to do in most

places where I have been called to minister; and this I feel to

be an animating testimony of His presence and blessing. I think

the commanding officer of the native regiment here and his lady

are seeking their salvation in earnest; they now refuse all

invitations on the Lord's day, and pass most of that day at

least in reading the Word, and at all times discover an

inclination to religious conversation. Among the privates, one I

have little doubt is truly converted to God, and is a great

refreshment to me. He parted at once with his native woman, and

allows her a separate maintenance. His conversion has excited

much notice and conversation about religion among the rest, and

three join him in coming twice a week to my quarters for

exposition, singing and prayer.

I visit the English very little, and yet have had sufficient

experience of the difficulty of knowing how a minister should

converse with his people. I have myself fallen into the worst

extreme, and, from fear of making them connect religion with

gloom, have been led into such shameful levity and conformity to

them as ought to fill me with grief and deep self-abasement.

How repeatedly has guilt been brought upon my conscience in this

way! Oh, how will the lost souls with whom I have trifled the

hours away look at me in the day of judgment! I hope I am more

and more convinced of the wickedness and folly of assuming any

other character than that of a minister. I ought to consider

that my proper business with the flock over which the Holy Ghost

hath made me overseer is the business of another world, and if

they will not consider it in the same light, I do not think that

I am bound to visit them.

About the middle of last month, the Church service being ready

in Hindustani, I submitted to the commanding officer of the

European regiment a proposal to perform Divine service

regularly for the native women of his regiment, to which he

cordially assented. The whole number of women, about 200,

attended with great readiness, and have continued to do so.

Instead of a sermon, the Psalms, and the appointed lessons, I

read in two portions the Gospel of St. Matthew regularly

forward, and occasionally make some small attempts at

expounding. The conversion of any of such despised people is

never likely perhaps to be of any extensive use in regard to the

natives at large; but they are a people committed to me by God,

and as dear to Him as others; and next in order after the

English, they come within the expanding circle of action.

After much trouble and delay, three schools have been

established for the native children on Mr. Creighton's plan--one

at Dinapore, one at Bankipore, and one at Patna, at the last of

which the Persian character is taught as well as the Nagri. The

number of children already is about sixty. The other

schoolmasters, not liking the introduction of these free

schools, spread the report that my intention was to make them

Christians, and send them to Europe; in consequence of which the

zemindars retracted their promises of land, and the parents

refused to send their children; but my schoolmasters very

sensibly went to the people, and told them, 'We are men well

known among you, and when we are made Christians then do you

begin to fear.' So their apprehensions have subsided; but when

the book of Parables, which is just finished, is put into their

hands, I expect a revival of their fears. My hope is that I

shall be able to ingratiate myself a little with the people

before that time; but chiefly that a gracious God will not

suffer Satan to keep his ground any longer, now that the

appointed means are used to dislodge him. But, though these

plans should fail, I hope to be strengthened to fight against

him all my days. For, from what I feel within and see without, I

know enough of him to vow, with my brethren, eternal enmity

against him and his cause.

Respecting the state of the natives hereabouts, I believe that

the Hindus are lax, for the rich men being few or none, there

are few Brahmins and few _tumashas_ (_fêtes_), and without these

idolatry droops. The Mohammedans are numerous and ignorant, but

from the best of them I cannot learn that more than three

arguments can be offered for their religion, which are--the

miracles wrought by Mohammed, those still wrought by his

followers, and his challenge in the second chapter of the Koran,

about producing a chapter like it, all of which are immediately

answered.

If my brethren have any others brought forward to them they

will, I hope, mention them; and if they have observed any remark

or statement apparently affect a native's mind, they will notice

it.

Above all things, _seriousness_ in argument with them seems most

desirable, for without it they laugh away the clearest proofs.

Zeal for making proselytes they are used to, and generally

attribute to a false motive; but a tender concern manifested for

their souls is certainly new to them, and seemingly produces

corresponding seriousness in their minds.

From an officer who had been in the Mahratta service, I learned

some time ago that there were large bodies of Christians at

Narwa, in the Mahratta dominions, Sardhana, Delhi, Agra, Bettia,

Boglipore. To obtain more information respecting them, I sent a

circular letter to the missionaries residing at the three latter

places, and have received two letters in reply. The padre at

Boglipore is a young man just arrived, and his letter contains

no information. From the letter of the padre at Agra I subjoin

some extracts, premising that my questions were: 1. By whom were

you sent? 2. How long has a mission been established in the

place of your residence? 3. Do you itinerate, and to what

distance? 4. Have you any portion of the MSS. translated, or do

you distribute tracts? 5. Do you allow any remains of caste to

the baptized? 6. Have you schools? are the masters heathen or

Christians? 7. Is there any native preacher or catechist? 8.

Number of converts.

In concluding my report, I take the liberty of proposing two

questions on which I should be thankful for communications in

your next quarterly report.

1. On the manner in which a minister should observe the Sabbath;

whether he should make it a point of duty to leave no part of

his discourses to prepare on that day? Whether our particular

situation in this country, requiring redoubled exertion in those

of us at least who are called to the heathen, will justify the

introduction of a secular work into the Sabbath, such as

translating the Scriptures, etc.?

2. In the commencement of our labours among the heathen, to

which model should our preaching be conformed,--to that of John

the Baptist and our Saviour, or that of the Apostles? The first

mode seems more natural, and if necessary for the Jews,

comparatively so enlightened, how much more for the heathen, who

have scarcely any notions of morality! On the other hand, the

preaching of the cross has in all ages won the most ignorant

savages; and the Apostles preached it at once to heathens as

ignorant perhaps as these.

Like Marshman and the Serampore missionaries, Henry Martyn kept up a

Latin correspondence with the missionaries sent from Rome by the

Propaganda to the stations founded by Xavier, and those afterwards

established by that saint's nephew in the days of the tolerant Akbar.

At the beginning of this century, Anglican, Baptist, and Romanist

missionaries all over the East co-operated with each other in

translation work and social intercourse. More than once Martyn

protected the priest at Patna from the persecution of the military

authorities. He planned a visit to their station at Bettia, to the far

north, at the foot of the Himalayas. In hospital his ministrations

were always offered to the Irish soldiers in the absence of their own

priest, and always without any controversial reference. In his

_Journal_ he is often indignant at the Popish perversion of the

doctrines of grace, and in preaching he occasionally set forth the

truth, but in pastoral and social intercourse he never failed to show

the charity of the Christian scholar and the gentleman.

Major Young, with his wife, was the first of the officers to welcome

Martyn's preaching. Soon the men in hospital learned to appreciate his

daily visits, and to attend to his earnest reading and talk. A few

began to meet with him at his own house regularly, for prayer and the

exposition of Holy Scripture. In January, he writes of one Sunday:

'Great attention. I think the Word is not going forth in vain. In the

afternoon read at the hospital. The steward I found had been long

stationed at Tanjore and knew Schwartz; that Schwartz baptized the

natives not by immersion, but by sprinkling, and with godfathers, and

read the services both in English and Tamil. Felt much delighted at

hearing anything about him. The man told me that the men at the

hospital were very attentive and thankful that I came amongst them.

Passed the evening with great joy and peace in singing hymns.' In the

heat of May he writes: 'Found fifty sick at the hospital, who heard

_The Pilgrim's Progress_ with great delight. Some men came to-night,

but my prayer with them was exceedingly poor and lifeless.'

In these days, thanks to Lord Lawrence and Sir Henry Norman, there is a

prayer-hall in every cantonment, ever open for the soldier who seeks

quiet communion with God. Then--'Six soldiers came to me to-night. To

escape as much as possible the taunts of their wicked companions, they

go out of their barracks in opposite directions to come to me. At night

a young Scotsman of the European regiment came to me for a hymn-book. He

expressed with tears his past wickedness and determination to lead a

religious life.' On the other side we have such passages as these: 'What

sort of men are these committed to my care? I had given them one more

warning about their whoredom and drunkenness, and it's the truth

grappling with their consciences that makes them furious.' Of the

Company's European regiment he writes to Corrie: 'A more wicked set of

men were, I suppose, never seen. The general, the colonel of the 67th,

and their own colonel all acknowledge it. At the hospital when I visit

their part, some go to a corner and invoke blasphemies upon me because,

as they now believe, the man I speak to dies to a certainty.' A young

lieutenant of fine abilities he recommended strenuously to go into the

ministry.

Although, fifteen years before, Sir John Shore had given orders as to

the building of churches at military stations, and Lord Wellesley had

set an example of interest in the moral and spiritual welfare of the

Company's servants, nothing had been done outside of the three

Presidency cities. All that Henry Martyn found provided for him, as

chaplain, on his first Sunday at Dinapore, was a long drum, on which

he placed the Prayer-book. He was requested not to preach, because the

men could not stand so long. He found the men playing at fives on

Sunday. All that he soon changed, by an appeal to the general to put

a stop to the games on Sunday, and by holding service at first in a

barrack, and then in his own house. Before leaving Calcutta he had

observed, in a conversation with the Governor-General, on the disgrace

of there being no places of worship at the principal subordinate

stations; upon which directions were given to prepare plans of

building. He wrote to the equally troubled Corrie at Chunar. A year

later nothing had been done, and he draws this picture to Corrie:

'From the scandalous disorder in which the Company have left the

ecclesiastical part of their affairs, so that we have no place fit,

our assemblies are little like worshipping assemblies. No kneeling

because no room; no singing, no responses.' At last Sir George Barlow

sent an order for an estimate for building a church, but Martyn had

left for Cawnpore, only to see a worse state of things there. But the

faithfulness of the 'black' chaplains was telling. He writes, on March

14, 1808:

The 67th are now all here. The number of their sick makes the

hospital congregation very considerable, so that if I had no

natives, translations, etc., to think of, there is call enough

for my labours and prayers among all these Europeans. The

general at my request has determined to make the whole body of

troops attend in three divisions; and yesterday morning the

Company's European, and two companies of the King's, came to

church in great pomp, with a fine band of music playing. The

King's officers, according to their custom, have declared their

intention not to call upon the Company's; therefore I mean to

call upon them. I believe I told you that 900 of the 67th are

Roman Catholics. It seemed an uncommonly splendid Mohurrum here

also. Mr. H., an assistant judge lately appointed to Patna,

joined the procession in a Hindustani dress, and went about

beating his breast, etc. This is a place remarkable for such

folly. The old judge, you know, has built a mosque here, and the

other judge issued an order that no marriage nor any feasting

should be held during the season of Mohammedan grief. A

remarkably sensible young man called on me yesterday with the

Colonel; they both seem well disposed to religion. I receive

many gratifying testimonies to the change apparently taking

place among the English in religious matters in India;

testimonies, I mean, from the mouths of the people, for I

confess I do not observe much myself.

Having translated the Church Service into Hindustani, Henry Martyn was

ready publicly to minister to the native women belonging to the

soldiers of the Company's European regiment. From such unions, rarely

lawful, sprang the now great and important Eurasian community, many of

whom have done good service to the Church and the Empire. 'The Colonel

approved, but told me that it was my business to find them an order,

and not his.'

_1807, March 23._--So I issued my command to the Sergeant-Major

to give public notice in the barracks that there would be Divine

service in the native language on the morrow. The morrow came,

and the Lord sent 200 women, to whom I read the whole of the

morning service. Instead of the lessons I began Matthew, and

ventured to expound a little, and but a little. Yesterday we had

a service again, but I think there were not more than 100. To

these I opened my mouth rather more boldly, and though there was

the appearance of lamentable apathy in the countenances of most

of them, there were two or three who understood and trembled at

the sermon of John the Baptist. This proceeding of mine is, I

believe, generally approved among the English, but the women

come, I fear, rather because it is the wish of their masters.

The day after attending service they went in flocks to the

Mohurrum, and even of those who are baptized, many, I am told,

are so addicted to their old heathenism, that they obtain money

from their husbands to give to the Brahmins. Our time of Divine

service in English is seven in the morning, and in Hindustani

two in the afternoon. May the Lord smile on this first attempt

at ministration in the native language!

_1807, March 23._--A few days ago I went to Bankipore to fulfil

my promise of visiting the families there; and amongst the rest

called on a poor creature whose black wife has made him

apostatise to Mohammedanism and build a mosque. Major Young went

with me, and the old man's son-in-law was there. He would not

address a single word to me, nor a salutation at parting,

because I found an occasion to remind him that the Son of God

had suffered in the stead of sinners. The same day I went on to

Patna to see how matters stood with respect to the school. Its

situation is highly favourable, near an old gate now in the

midst of the city, and where three ways meet; neither master nor

children were there. The people immediately gathered round me in

great numbers, and the crowd thickened so fast, that it was with

difficulty I could regain my palanquin. I told them that what

they understood by making people Christians was not my

intention; I wished the children to be taught to fear God and

become good men, and that if, after this declaration, they were

still afraid, I could do no more; the fault was not mine, but

theirs. My schools have been heard of among the English sooner

than I wished or expected. The General observed to me one

morning that that school of mine made a very good appearance

from the road; 'but,' said he, 'you will make no proselytes.' If

that be all the opposition he makes, I shall not much mind.

A week later he wrote:

_March 30._--Sick in body, but rather serious and humble in

spirit, and so happy; corrected the Parables for a fair copy.

Reading the Koran and Hindustani Ramayuna, and translating

Revelation; a German sergeant came with his native woman to have

her baptized; I talked with her a good while, in order to

instruct her, and found her extraordinarily quick in

comprehension.

_April 1._--The native woman came again, and I passed a great

deal of time in instructing her in the nature of the Gospel;

but, alas! till the Lord touch her heart, what can a man do? At

night the soldiers came, and we had again a very happy time; how

graciously the Lord fulfils His promise of being where two or

three are gathered together! The pious soldier grows in faith

and love, and spoke of another who wants to join us. They said

that the native women accounted it a great honour to be

permitted to come to a church and hear the Word of God, and

wondered why I should take such trouble for them.

'How shall it ever be possible to convince a Hindu or Brahmin of

anything?' wrote Henry Martyn to Corrie after two years' experience in

Bengal.

_1808, January 4._--Truly, if ever I see a Hindu a real believer

in Jesus, I shall see something more nearly approaching the

resurrection of a dead body than anything I have yet seen.

However, I well remember Mr. Ward's words, 'The common people

are angels compared with the Brahmins.' Perhaps the strong man

armed, that keeps the goods in peace, shall be dispossessed from

these, when the mighty Word of God comes to be ministered by us.

'We shall live to see better days.' For these he prepared his

translations of the Word of God. He wished to itinerate among the

people, but his military duties kept him to the station. When Mr.

Brown made another attempt to get him fixed in the Mission-Church he

replied, 'The evangelisation of India is a more important object than

preaching to the European inhabitants of Calcutta.' To Corrie he

wrote: 'Those sequestered valleys seen from Chunar present an inviting

field for missionary labours. A Sikh, making a pilgrimage to Benares,

came to me; he was very ignorant, and I do not know whether he

understood what I endeavoured to show him about the folly of

pilgrimages, the nature of true holiness, and the plan of the Gospel.'

_1808, February 12._--Sabat describes so well the character of a

missionary that I am ashamed of my great house, and mean to sell

it the first opportunity, and take the smallest quarters I can

find. Would that the day were come when I might throw off the

coat and substitute the jamer; I long for it more and more; and

am often very uneasy at being in the neighbourhood of so great a

Nineveh without being able to do anything immediately for the

salvation of so many perishing souls. What do you think of my

standing under a shed somewhere in Patna as the missionaries did

in the Lal Bazar? Will the Government interfere? What are your

sensations on the late news? I fear the judgments of God on our

proud nation, and that, as we have done nothing for the Gospel

in India, this vineyard will be let out to others who shall

bring the fruits of it in their season. I think the French would

not treat Juggernaut with quite so much ceremony as we do.

Above all men in India, at that time and during the next half-century,

however, Henry Martyn was a missionary to the Mohammedans. For them he

learned and he translated Hindustani, Persian, and Arabic. With their

moulvies he conducted controversies; and for years he associated with

himself that extraordinary Arab, Sabat, who made life a burden to him.

Sabat and Abdallah, two Arabs of notable pedigree, becoming friends,

resolved to travel together. After a visit to Mecca they went to

Cabul, where Abdallah entered the service of Zeman Shah, the famous

Ameer. There an Armenian lent him the Arabic Bible, he became a

Christian, and he fled for his life to Bokhara. Sabat had preceded him

there, and at once recognised him on the street. 'I had no pity,' said

Sabat afterwards. 'I delivered him up to Morad Shah, the king.' He was

offered his life if he would abjure Christ. He refused. Then one of

his hands was cut off, and again he was pressed to recant. 'He made no

answer, but looked up steadfastly towards heaven, like Stephen, the

first martyr, his eyes streaming with tears. He looked at me, but it

was with the countenance of forgiveness. His other hand was then cut

off. But he never changed, and when he bowed his head to receive the

blow of death all Bokhara seemed to say, "What new thing is this?"'

Remorse drove Sabat to long wanderings, in which he came to Madras,

where the Government gave him the office of mufti, or expounder of the

law of Islam in the civil courts. At Vizagapatam he fell in with a

copy of the Arabic New Testament as revised by Solomon Negri, and sent

out to India by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge in the

middle of last century. He compared it with the Koran, the truth fell

on him 'like a flood of light,' and he sought baptism in Madras at the

hands of the Rev. Dr. Kerr. He was named Nathaniel. He was then

twenty-seven years of age.

When the news reached his family in Arabia his brother set out to

destroy him, and, disguised as an Asiatic, wounded him with a dagger as

he sat in his house at Vizagapatam. He sent him home with letters and

gifts to his mother, and then gave himself up to propagate the truth he

had once, in his friend Abdallah's person, persecuted to the death. He

became one of the translating staff of the Serampore brotherhood, and

did good service on the Arabic and Persian Scriptures. Mr. John

Marshman, who knew him well, used to describe him as a man of lofty

station, of haughty carriage, and with a flowing black beard. Delighted

with the simple life and devotion of the missionaries, he dismissed his

two Arab servants, and won the affection of all. When Serampore arranged

to leave to Henry Martyn the Persian translation of the New Testament,

Sabat left them with tears in his eyes for Dinapore. In almost nothing

does the saintliness of Martyn appear so complete as in the references

in his _Journal_ to the pride, the vanity, the malice, the rage of this

'artless child of the desert,' when it became apparent that his

knowledge of Persian and Arabic had been over-estimated. The passages

are pathetic, and are equalled only by those which, in the closing days

of his life, describe the dying missionary's treatment by his Tartar

escort. But to the last, Sabat, according to Colonel MacInnes of

Penang,[27] 'never spoke of Mr. Martyn without the most profound

respect, and shed tears of grief whenever he recalled how severely he

had tried the patience of this faithful servant of God. He mentioned

several anecdotes to show with what extraordinary sweetness Martyn had

borne his numerous provocations. "He was less a man," he said, "than an

angel from heaven."'

The rest of Sabat's story may at once be told. Moved by rage at the

exposure, by the Calcutta moonshis, of the incorrectness of his

Arabic, and at the suspicions that his translations were copies from

some old version, Sabat apostatised by publishing a virulent attack on

Christianity. 'As when Judas acted the traitor, Ananias the liar, and

Simon Magus the refined hypocrite, so it was when Sabat daringly

departed from the nominal profession of the truth. The righteous

sorrowed, the unrighteous triumphed; yet wisdom was justified of her

children,' wrote Mr. Sargent. He left Calcutta as a trader for Penang,

where he wrote to the local newspaper declaring that he professed

Christianity anew, and he entered the service of the fugitive Sultan

of Acheen, on the north of Sumatra. Thence, when he was imprisoned by

the insurgents, he wrote letters with his own blood to the Penang

authorities, declaring that he was in some sense a martyr for Christ.

All the private efforts of Colonel MacInnes to obtain his freedom were

in vain; he was tied up in a sack and thrown into the sea. In the

light of these events we must now read Henry Martyn's _Journal_:

_1807, August 24._--To live without sin is what I cannot expect

in this world, but to desire to live without it may be the

experience of every hour. Thinking to-night of the

qualifications of Sabat, I felt the conviction, both in

reflection and prayer, of the power of God to make him another

St. Paul.

_November 10._--The very first day we began to spar. He would

come into none of my plans, nor did I approve of his; but I gave

way, and by yielding prevailed, for he now does everything I

tell him.... Sabat lives and eats with me, and goes to his

bungalow at night, so that I hope he has no care on his mind. On

Sunday morning he went to church with me. While I was in the

vestry a bearer took away his chair from him, saying it was

another gentleman's. The Arab took fire and left the church, and

when I sent the clerk after him he would not return. He

anticipated my expostulations after church, and began to lament

that he had _two_ dispositions, one old, the other new.

_1808, January 11._--Sabat sometimes awakes some of the evil

parts of my nature. Finding I have no book of Logic, he wishes

to translate one of his compositions, to instruct me in that

science. He is much given to contradict, and set people right,

and that he does with an air so dogmatical, that I have not seen

the like of it since I left Cambridge. He looks on the

missionaries at Serampore as so many degrees below him in

intellect, that he says he could write so deeply on a text, that

not one of them would be able to follow him. So I have

challenged him in their name, and to-day he has brought me the

first half of his essay or sermon on a text: with some

ingenuity, it has the most idle display of school-boy pedantic

logic you ever saw. I shall translate it from the Persian, in

order to assist him to rectify his errors. He is certainly

learned in the learning of the Arabs, and how he has acquired so

much in a life so active is strange, but I wish it could be made

to sit a little easier on him. I look forward to St. Paul's

Epistles, in hopes some good will come to him from them. It is a

very happy circumstance that he did not go to preach at his

first conversion; he would have entangled himself in

metaphysical subjects out of his depth, and probably made

shipwreck of his own faith. I have, I think, led him to see that

it is dangerous and foolish to attempt to prove the doctrine of

the Trinity by reason, as he said at first he was perfectly able

to do.

_January 30._--Sabat to-day finishes St. Matthew, and will write

to you on the occasion. Your letter to him was very kind and

suitable, but I think you must not mention his logic to him,

except with contempt; for he takes what you say on that head as

homage due to his acquirements, and praise to him is brandy to a

man in a high fever. He loves as a Christian brother; but as a

logician he holds us all in supreme contempt. He assumes all the

province of reasoning as his own by right, and decides every

question magisterially. He allows Europeans to know a little

about Arithmetic and Navigation, but nothing more. Dear man! I

smile to observe his pedantry. Never have I seen such an

instance of dogmatical pride since I heard Dr. Parr preach his

Greek Sermon at St. Mary's, about the τὸ ὄν.

_March 7._--Mirza is gone to the Mohurrum to-day: he discovers

no signs of approach to the truth. Sabat creates himself enemies

in every quarter by his jealous and passionate spirit,

particularly among the servants. At his request I have sent away

my tailor and bearers, and he is endeavouring to get my other

servants turned away; because without any proof he suspects them

of having persuaded the bearers not to come into his service. He

can now get no bearers nor tailor to serve him. One day this

week he came to me, and said that he meant to write to Mr. Brown

to remove him from this place, for everything went wrong--the

people were all wicked, etc. The immediate cause of this

vexation was that some boxes, which he had been making at the

expense of 150 rupees, all cracked at the coming on of the hot

weather. I concealed my displeasure at his childish fickleness

of temper, and discovered no anxiety to retain him, but quietly

told him of some of the consequences of removing, so it is gone

out of his mind. But Mirza happened to hear all Sabat's

querulous harangue, and, in order to vex and disgust him

effectually, rode almost into his house, and came in with his

shoes. This irritated the Arab; but Mirza's purpose was not

answered. Mirza began next day to tell a parcel of lies about

Sabat, and to bring proofs of his own learning. The manifest

tendency of all this was to make a division between Sabat and

me, and to obtain his _salary_ and work for himself. Oh, the

hypocrisy and wickedness of an Indian! I never saw a more

remarkable contrast in two men than in Mirza and Sabat. One is

all exterior--the other has no outside at all; one a most

consummate man of the world--the other an artless child of the

desert.

_March 28._--Sabat has been tolerably quiet this week; but think

of the keeper of a lunatic, and you see me. A war of words broke

out the beginning of last week, but it ended in an honourable

peace. After he got home at night he sent a letter, complaining

of a high crime and misdemeanour in some servant; I sent him a

soothing letter, and the wild beast fell asleep. In all these

altercations we take occasion to consider the extent of

Christian forbearance, as necessary to be exercised in all the

smaller occasions of life, as well as when persecution comes for

religion. This he has not been hitherto aware of. One night in

prayer I forgot to mention Mr. Brown; so, after I had done, he

continued on his knees and went on and prayed in Persian for

him. I was much pleased at this.

Did you read Lord Minto's speech, and his commendation of those

_learned and pious men_, the missionaries? I have looked upon

him ever since as a nursing-father to the Church.

_April 11._--It is surprising that a man can be so blinded by

vanity as to suppose, as Sabat does, that he is superior to

Mirza in Hindustani; yet this he does, and maintains it stoutly.

I am tired of combating this opinion, as nothing comes of our

arguments but strifes. Another of his odd opinions is, that he

is so under the immediate influence and direction of the Spirit,

that there will not be one single error in his whole Persian

translation. You perceive a little enthusiasm in the character

of our brother. As often as he finds himself in any difficulty,

he expects a dream to set him right.

_April 26._--These Orientals with whom I translate require me to

point out the connection between every two sentences, which is

often more than I can do. It is curious how accurately they

observe all the rules of writing, and yet generally write badly.

I can only account for it by supposing that they have been

writing too long. From time immemorial they have been authors,

without progressive knowledge; and so to produce variety they

supply their lack of knowledge by overstraining their

imagination; hence their extravagant metaphors and affected way

of expressing the commonest things. Sabat, though a real

Christian, has not lost a jot of his Arabian pride. He looks

upon the Europeans as mushrooms, and seems to regard my

pretensions to any learning as we do those of a savage or an

ape.

_May 31._--Some days Sabat overworked himself and was laid up.

He does his utmost. He is increasingly dear to me, as I see more

of the meekness and gentleness of Christ in him. Our conflicts I

hope are over, and we shall draw very quietly together side by

side.

In all this, and much more that followed, or is unrecorded, Henry

Martyn was being prepared unconsciously for his formal and unanswered

controversies with the learned Mussulmans of Persia. His letters to

Corrie tell of his farther experience with his moonshis and the

moulvies of Patna, and describe the true spirit of such 'disputings'

for the truth.

_1807, April 28._--Of what importance is our walk in reference

to our ministry, and particularly among the natives. For myself,

I never enter into a dispute with them without having reason to

reflect that I mar the work for which I contend by the spirit

in which I do it. During my absence at Monghyr moonshi went to a

learned native for assistance against an answer I had given him

to their main argument for the Koran, and he not being able to

render it, they mean to have down their leading man from Benares

to convince me of the truth of their religion. I wish a spirit

of inquiry may be excited, but I lay not much stress upon _clear

arguments_; the work of God is seldom wrought in this way. To

preach the Gospel, with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven, is

a better way to win souls.

_May 4._--I am preparing for the assault of this great

Mohammedan Imaum. I have read the Koran and notes twice for this

purpose, and even filled whole sheets with objections, remarks,

questions, etc.; but, alas! what little hopes have I of doing

him or any of them good in this way! Moonshi is in general mute.

_October 28._--At night, in a conversation with Mirza

accidentally begun, I spoke to him for more than three hours on

Christianity and Mohammedanism. He said there was no passage in

the Gospel that said no prophet shall come after Christ. I

showed him the last verse in Matthew, the passages in Isaiah and

Daniel, on the eternity of Christ's kingdom, and proved it from

the nature of the way of salvation in the Gospel. I then told

him my objections against Mohammedanism, its laws, its defects,

its unnecessariness, the unsuitableness of its rewards, and its

utter want of support by proof. When he began to mention

Mahomet's miracles, I showed him the passages in the 6th and

13th chapters of the Koran, where he disavows the power. Nothing

surprised him so much as these passages; he is, poor man,

totally indifferent about all religion; he told me that I had

produced great doubt in his mind, and that he had no answer to

give.

_November 21._--My mind violently occupied with thoughts

respecting the approaching spread of the Gospel, and my own

going to Persia. Sabat's conversation stirs up a great desire in

me to go; as by his account all the Mahometan countries are ripe

for throwing off the delusion. The gracious Lord will teach me,

and make my way plain before my face. Oh, may He keep my soul in

peace, and make it indifferent to me whether I die or live, so

Christ be magnified by me. I have need to receive this spirit

from Him, for I feel at present unwilling to die, as if my own

life and labours were necessary for this work, or as if I should

be deprived of the bliss of seeing the conversion of the

nations. Vain thought! God, who keeps me here awhile, arranges

every part of His plans in unerring wisdom, and if I should be

cut off in the midst of my plans, I shall still, I trust,

through mercy, behold His works in heaven, and be everlastingly

happy in the never-ceasing admiration of His works and nature.

Every day the disputes with Mirza and Moorad Ali become more

interesting. Their doubts of Mahometanism seem to have amounted

almost to disbelief. Moorad Ali confessed that they all received

their religion, not on conviction, but because it was the way of

their fathers; and he said with great earnestness, that if some

great Sheikh-ool-Islam, whom he mentioned, could not give an

answer, and a satisfactory, rational evidence, of the truth of

Islamism, he would renounce it and be baptized. Mirza seemed

still more anxious and interested, and speaks of it to me and

Sabat continually. In translating 1 Timothy i. 15, I said to

them, 'You have in that verse heard the Gospel; your blood will

not be required at my hands; you will certainly remember these

words at the last day.' This led to a long discussion, at the

close of which, when I said that, notwithstanding their

endeavours to identify the two religions, there is still so much

difference 'that if our word is true you are lost,' they looked

at each other almost with consternation, and said 'It is true.'

Still the Trinity and the incarnation of Christ afford a plea to

the one, and a difficulty to the other.

At another time, when I had, from some passage, hinted to Mirza

his danger, he said with great earnestness, 'Sir, why won't you

try to save me?' 'Save you?' said I, 'I would lay down my life

to save your soul: what can I do?' He wished me to go to

Phoolwari, the Mussulman college, and there examine the subject

with the most learned of their doctors. I told him I had no

objection to go to Phoolwari, but why could not he as well

inquire for himself whether there were any evidence for

Mohammedanism?

_1808, June 14._--Called on Bahir Ali Khan, Dare, and the

Italian padre; with Bahir Ali I stayed two hours, conversing in

Persian. He began our theological discussion with a question to

me, 'How do you reconcile God's absolute power and man's free

will?' I pleaded ignorance and inability, but he replied to his

own question very fully, and his conclusion seemed to be that

God had created evil things for the trial of His creatures. His

whole manner, look, authority, and copiousness constantly

reminded me of the Dean of Carlisle.[28] I asked him for the

proofs of the religion of Mahomet. The first he urged was the

eloquence of the Koran. After a long time he conceded that it

was, of itself, an insufficient argument. I then brought forward

a passage of the Koran containing a sentiment manifestly false;

on which he floundered a good deal; but concluded with saying

that I must wait till I knew more of logic and Persian before he

could explain it to me satisfactorily. On the whole, I was

exceedingly pleased with his candour, politeness, and good

sense. He said he had nothing to lose by becoming a Christian,

and that, if he were once persuaded of the truth, he would

change without hesitation. He showed me an Arabic translation of

Euclid.

_June 15._--Read an account of Turkey. The bad effects of the

book were so great that I found instant need of prayer, and I do

not know when I have had such divine and animating feelings. Oh,

it is Thy Spirit that makes me pant for the skies. It is He that

shall make me trample the world and my lusts beneath my feet,

and urge my onward course towards the crown of life.

_December 5._--Went to Patna to Sabat, and saw several Persians

and Arabians. I found that the intended dispute had come to

nothing, for that Ali had told Sabat he had been advised by his

father not to dispute with him. They behaved with the utmost

incivility to him, not giving him a place to sit down, and

desiring him at last to go. Sabat rose, and shook his garment

against them, and said, 'If you know Mohammedanism to be right,

and will not try to convince me, you will have to answer for it

at the day of judgment. I have explained to you the Gospel; I am

therefore pure from your blood.' He came home and wrote some

poetry on the Trinity, and the Apostles, which he recited to me.

We called on Mizra Mehdi, a jeweller, who showed us some

diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. With an old Arabian there I

tried to converse in Arabic. He understood my Arabic, but I

could not understand his. They were all full of my praise, but

then the pity was that I was a Christian. I challenged them to

show what there was wrong in being a Nazarene, but they

declined. Afterwards we called on the nabob Moozuffur Ali Khan.

The house Sabat lived in was properly an Oriental one; and, as

he said, like those in Syria. It reminded me often of the

Apostles, and the recollection was often solemnising.

_December 6 to 8._--Betrayed more than once into evil temper,

which left dreadful remorse of conscience; I cried unto God in

secret, but the sense of my sinfulness was overwhelming. It had

a humbling effect, however. In prayer with my men I was led more

unfeignedly to humble myself even to the dust, and after that I

enjoyed, through the sovereign mercy of God, much peace, and a

sense of His presence. Languid in my studies; indisposition

causing sleepiness. Reading chiefly Persian and a little Greek:

Hanway, Waring, and Franklin's Travels into Persia. Haji Khan, a

sensible old man from Patna, called two days following, and sat

a long time conversing upon religion.

TO MRS. DARE, GAYA

Dinapore: May 19, 1808.

Dear Mrs. Dare,[29]--Your letter arrived just in time to save

you from some severe animadversions that were preparing for you.

I intended to have sent by your young friend some remarks,

direct and oblique, on the variableness of the sex, the facility

with which promises are made and broken, the pleasures of

indolence, and other topics of the like nature,--but your kind

epistle disarms me. Soon after you left us, the heat increased

to a degree I had never before felt, and made me often think of

you with concern. I used to say to Colonel Bradshaw, 'I wonder

how Mrs. Dare likes Gya, and its burning hills--I dare say she

would be glad to be back again.' Well, I should be glad if we

had you here again. I want female society, and among the ladies

of Dinapore there is none with whom I have a chance of obtaining

a patient hearing when speaking to them on the subject of their

most important interest. This, you know, is the state of all but

Mrs. Stuart, and it is a state of danger and death. Follow them

no more, my dear friend: but now, in the solitude of Gya, learn

those lessons of heavenly wisdom, that, when you are brought

again into a larger society, you may not yield to the impulse of

doing as others do, but, by a life of true seriousness, put them

to shame.

I go on much as usual, occupied all day, and laying a weary

head on the pillow at night. My health, which you inquire after

so kindly, is on the whole good; but I am daily reminded that it

is a fragile frame I carry about.

_August 23._--I rejoice to find by your letter that you are

contented with your lot. Before the time of Horace, and since

too, contentment has been observed to be a very rare thing on

earth, and I know not how it is to be obtained but by learning

in the school of the Gospel. 'I have _learned_,' said even St.

Paul, 'in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.' To be

a little slanderous for once, I suspect Colonel Bradshaw, our

common friend, who will send you a letter by the same sepoy,

must have a lecture or two more read to him in this science, as

he is far from being perfect in it. He has, you know, all that

heart can wish of this world's goods, and yet he is restless;

sometimes the society is dull; at other times the blame is laid

on the quarters, and he must go out of cantonments. To-day he is

going to Gya, to-morrow on the river. Now, I tell him that he

need not change his place, but his heart. Let him seek his

happiness in God, and he will carry about a paradise in his own

bosom. _The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for

him, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose._

_September 23._--My dear Mrs. Dare, attend to the call of God;

He never speaks more to the heart than by affliction. Such a

season as this, so favourable to the commencement of true piety,

may never again occur. Hereafter time may have riveted worldly

habits on you, and age rendered the heart insensible. Begin now

to be melancholy? No--to be seriously happy, to be purely happy,

everlastingly happy.

Ever, through the solitude, the suffering, and the toiling of the

first twelve months at Dinapore, the thought of Lydia Grenfell, the

hope of her union to him, and her help in his agonising for India,

runs like a chord of sad music. He thus writes to his cousin, her

sister:

Indeed, all my Europe letters this season have brought me such

painful news that I almost dread receiving another. Such is the

vanity of our expectations. I had been looking out with more

than ordinary anxiety for these letters, thinking they would

give me some account of Lydia's coming--whereas yours and hers

have only wounded me, and my sister's,[30] giving me the

distressing tidings of her ill-health, makes my heart bleed. Oh,

it is now that I feel the agony of having half the globe

intervening between us. Could I but be with her: yet God who

heareth prayer will surely supply my place. From Sally I expect

neither promptness nor the ability to console her sister. This

is the first time Sally has taken up her pen to write to me, and

thought an apology necessary for her neglect. Perhaps she has

been wrapt up in her dear husband, or her dearer self. I feel

very angry with her. But my dear faithful Lydia has more than

compensated for all the neglect of my own relations. I believe

she has sent me more than all the rest in England put together.

If I had not loved her before, her affectionate and constant

remembrance of me would win my heart.

You mention the name of your last little one (may she be a

follower of her namesake!). It reminds me of what Mr. Brown has

lately written to me. He says that Mrs. B. had determined her

expected one should be called after me: but, as it proved to be

a girl, it was called _Lydia Martyn Brown_, a combination that

suggests many reflections to my mind.

And now I ought to begin to write about myself and India: but I

fear you are not so interested about me as you used to be: yet

the Church of God, I know, is dear to you always! Let me speak

of the ministers. The Gospel was preached before the

Governor-General by seven different evangelical chaplains in the

course of six months. Of these five have associated, agreeing to

communicate with each other quarterly reports of their

proceedings. They are Mr. Brown at Calcutta, Thompson at

Cuddalore, Parson at Berhampore, Corrie at Chunar, and myself

here. Corrie and myself, as being most similarly employed,

correspond every week. He gives all his attention to the

languages, and has his heart wholly towards the heathen. He has

set on foot four schools in his neighbourhood, and I four here

along the banks of the Ganges, containing 120 boys: he has

nearly the same number. The masters are heathens--but they have

consented with some reluctance to admit the Christian books. The

little book on the Parables in the dialect of Bihar, which I had

prepared for them, is now in the press at Serampore; for the

present, they read with their own books the Sermon on the Mount.

We hope by the help of God to enlarge the plan of the schools

very considerably, as soon as we have felt the ground, and can

advance boldly.

Respecting my own immediate plans, I am rather in the dark. They

wish to engage me as a translator of the Scriptures into

Hindustani and Persian, by the help of some learned natives; and

if this plan is settled at Calcutta, I shall engage in it

without hesitation, as conceiving it to be the most useful way

in which I can be employed at present in the Church of God. If

not, I hope to begin to itinerate as soon as the rains are over;

not that I can hope to be easily understood yet, but by mixing

familiarly with the natives I should soon learn. Little

permanent good, however, can be done till some of the Scriptures

can be put into their hands. On this account I wish to help

forward this work as quick as possible, because a chapter will

speak plainly in a thousand places at once, while I can speak,

and not very plainly, but in one. One advantage attending the

delay of public preaching will be that the schools will have a

fair run, for the commencement of preaching will be the downfall

of the schools. I have my tent ready, and would set out with

pleasure to-morrow if the time for this work were come. As there

is public service here every Lord's Day, three days' journey is

the longest I can take. This may hereafter prove an

inconvenience: but the advantages of being a Company's servant

are incalculable. A missionary not in the service is liable to

be stopped by every subaltern; but there is no man that can

touch me. Amongst the Europeans at this station I am not without

encouragement. Eight or ten, chiefly corporals or sergeants,

come to my quarters Sunday and Wednesday nights for social

worship: but it does not appear that more than one are truly

converted. The commanding officer of the native battalion and

his lady, whom I mentioned in my last, are, I think,

increasingly serious--but the fear of man is their snare. Mrs.

Young says that, with Lydia to support her, she could face the

frown of the world. I had been looking forward with pleasure to

the time when she _would_ have such support, and rejoiced that

Lydia would have so sensible and hopeful a companion.

Dinapore: December, 1807.

My dear Cousin,--Your letter, after so long a silence, was a

great relief to me, as it assured me of your undiminished

affection; but I regretted you had been so sparing in your

consolations on the subject of my late disappointment. Remember,

it was to you I used to unbosom all my anxieties, and I still

look to you for that sympathising tenderness which no other

person perhaps feels for me, or at least can venture to express.

How every particular of our conversation in the journey from

Redruth to Plymouth Dock returns to my mind! I have reason

indeed to remember it--from that time I date my sorrows--we

talked too much about Lydia. Her last letter was to bid me a

final farewell, so I must not write to her without her

permission; she wished she might hear by you that I was happy. I

am therefore obliged to say that God has, according to her

prayer, kept me in peace, and indeed strengthened me unto all

patience and long-suffering with joyfulness. 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 of 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 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 the earth. Lydia allows me not the most

distant prospect of ever seeing her; and if indeed the supposed

indelicacy of her coming out to me is an obstacle that cannot be

got over, it is likely indeed to be a lasting separation: for

when shall I ever see it lawful to leave my work here for three

years, when every hour is unspeakably precious? I am beginning

therefore to form my plans as a person in a state of celibacy,

and mean to trouble you no more on what I have been lately

writing about so much. However, let me be allowed to make one

request; it is that Lydia would at least consider me as she did

before, and write as at that time. Perhaps there may be some

objection to this request, and therefore I dare not urge it. I

say only that by experience I know it will prove an inestimable

blessing and comfort to me. If you really wish to have a

detailed account of my proceedings, exert your influence in

effecting this measure; for you may be sure that I shall be

disposed to write to _her_ letters long enough, longer than to

any other, for this reason among others, that of the three in

the world who have most love for me, _i.e._ Sally, Lydia, and

yourself, I believe that, notwithstanding all that has

happened, the middle one loves most truly. If this conjecture of

mine is well-founded, she will be most interested in what

befalls me, and I shall write in less fear of tiring. My bodily

health, which you require me always to mention, is prodigious,

my strength and spirits are in general greater than ever they

were, and this under God I ascribe to the susceptibility of my

frame, giving me instant warning of anything that may disorder

it. Half-an-hour's exposure to the sun produces an immediate

overflow of bile: therefore I take care never to let the sun's

rays fall upon my body. Vexation or anxiety has the same effect.

For this, faith and prayer for the peace of God are the best

remedy.

Since my last letter, written a few months ago in reply to

Cousin T., I do not recollect that anything has happened. Dr.

Buchanan's last publication on the Christian Institution will

give you the most full and interesting accounts of the affairs

of our Lord's kingdom in India. The press seems to us all to be

the great instrument at present. Preaching by the European

Mission here has in no instance that I know of been successful.

Everything in our manner, pronunciation, and doctrine is so new

and strange, that to instruct them properly _vivâ voce_ seems to

be giving more time to a small body of them than can be

conveniently spared from the great mass. Yet, on the other hand,

I feel reason to be guarded against the love of carnal ease,

which would make me prefer the literary work of translating to

that of an itinerant: upon the whole, however, I acquiesce in

the work that Dr. B. has assigned me, from conviction. Through

the blessing of God I have finished the New Testament in the

Perso-Arabic-Hindustani, but it must undergo strict revisal

before it can be sent to the press. My assistants in this work

were Mirza Mahommed Ali and Moorad Ali, two Mahometans, and I

sometimes hope there are convictions in their minds which they

will not be able to shake off. They have not much doubt of the

falsehood of Mahometanism, and the truth of the Gospel, but they

cannot take up the cross.

The arrival of Jawad Sabat, our Arabian brother, at Dinapore,

had a great effect upon them.... He is now employed in

translating the New Testament into Persian and Arabic, and great

will be the benefit to his own soul, that he is called to study

the Word of God: the Bible Society at home will, I hope, bear

the expense of printing it. This work, whenever it is done

properly, will be the downfall of Mahometanism. What do I not

owe to the Lord for giving me to take part in a translation?

Never did I see such wonders of wisdom and love in the blessed

book, as since I have been obliged to study every expression;

and it is often a delightful reflection, that even death cannot

deprive us of the privilege of studying its mysteries.... I

forgot to mention Lydia's profile, which I received. I have now

to request her miniature picture, and you must draw on Mr.

Simeon, my banker, for the expense.... I need not assure you and

Cousin T. of my unceasing regard, nor Lydia of my unalterable

attachment. God bless you all, my beloved friends. Pray for me,

as I do also for you. Our separation will soon be over.

_July 3._--Received two Europe letters--one from Lydia, and the

other from Colonel Sandys. The tender emotions of love, and

gratitude, and veneration for her, were again powerfully

awakened in my mind, so that I could with difficulty think of

anything else; yet I found myself drawn nearer to God by the

pious remarks of her letter. Nature would have desired more

testimonies of her love to me, but grace approved her ardent

love to her Lord.

TO CHARLES SIMEON[31]

Danapore (_sic_): January, 1808.

My dearest Friend and Brother,--I must begin my letter with

assurances of eternal regard; eternal will it be if I find

grace to be faithful.... My expectation of seeing Lydia here is

now at an end. I cannot doubt any longer what is the Divine

will, and I bow to it. Since I have been led to consider myself

as perfectly disengaged from the affairs of this life, my soul

has been filled with more ardent desires to spend and be spent

in the service of God; and though in truth the world has now

little to charm me, I think these desires do not arise from a

misanthropic disgust to it.... I never loved, nor ever shall

love, human creature as I love her.

Soon after David Brown of Calcutta wrote to Charles Simeon, whom a

rumour of Henry Martyn's engagement to Miss Corrie, his friend's

sister, had reached: 'How could you imagine that Miss C. would do as

well as Miss L.G. for Mr. Martyn? Dear Martyn is married already to

three wives, whom, I believe, he would not forsake for all the

princesses in the earth--I mean his three translations of the Holy

Scriptures.'

To Mrs. Brown at Aldeen, who was his confidante in India, Martyn wrote

on July 21:

It appears that the letter by the overland despatch did not

reach Lydia. Again, the Sarah Christiana packet, which carried

the duplicate, ought to have arrived long before the sailing of

these last ships from England, but I see no account of her. It

is probable, therefore, that I shall have to wait a considerable

time longer in uncertainty; all which is good, because so hath

the Lord appointed it.

_July 25._--Hard at Arabic grammar all day, after finishing

sermon. Sat in the evening a long time at my door, after the

great fatigue of the day, to let my mind relax itself, and found

a melancholy pleasure in looking back upon the time spent at St.

Hilary and Marazion. How the days and years are gone by, as a

tale that is told!

At last the blow had fallen.

_October 24._--An unhappy day: received at last a letter from

Lydia, in which she refuses to come because her mother will not

consent to it. Grief and disappointment threw my soul into

confusion at first, but gradually as my disorder subsided my

eyes were opened, and reason resumed its office. I could not but

agree with her that it would not be for the glory of God, nor

could we expect His blessing, if she acted in disobedience to

her mother. As she has said, 'They that walk in crooked paths

shall not find peace;' and if she were to come with an uneasy

conscience, what happiness could we either of us expect?

TO LYDIA GRENFELL

Dinapore: October 24, 1807.

My dear Lydia,--Though my heart is bursting with grief and

disappointment, I write not to blame you. The rectitude of all

your conduct secures you from censure. Permit me calmly to reply

to your letter of March 5, which I have this day received.

You condemn yourself for having given me, though

unintentionally, encouragement to believe that my attachment was

returned. Perhaps you have. I have read your former letters with

feelings less sanguine since the receipt of the last, and I am

still not surprised at the interpretation I put upon them. But

why accuse yourself for having written in this strain? It has

not increased my expectations nor consequently embittered my

disappointment. When I addressed you in my first letter on the

subject, I was not induced to it by any appearances of regard

you had expressed, neither at any subsequent period have my

hopes of your consent been founded on a belief of your

attachment to me. I knew that your conduct would be regulated,

not by personal feelings, but by a sense of duty. And therefore

you have nothing to blame yourself for on this head.

In your last letter you do not assign among your reasons for

refusal a want of regard to me. In that case I could not in

decency give you any further trouble. On the contrary, you say

that '_present_ circumstances seem to you to forbid my indulging

expectations.' As this leaves an opening, I presume to address

you again; and till the answer arrives must undergo another

eighteen months of torturing suspense.

Alas! my rebellious heart--what a tempest agitates me! I knew

not that I had made so little progress in a spirit of

resignation to the Divine will. I am in my chastisement like a

bullock unaccustomed to the yoke, like a wild bull in a net,

full of the fury of the Lord, the rebuke of my God. The death of

my late most beloved sister almost broke my heart; but I hoped

it had softened me and made me willing to suffer. But now my

heart is as though destitute of the grace of God, full of

misanthropic disgust with the world, and sometimes feeling

resentment against yourself and Emma, and Mr. Simeon, and, in

short, all whom I love and honour most; sometimes, in pride and

anger, resolving to write neither to you nor to any one else

again. These are the motions of sin. My love and my better

reason draw me to you again.... But now with respect to your

mother, I confess that the chief and indeed only difficulty lies

here. Considering that she is _your_ mother, as I hoped she

would be mine, and that her happiness so much depends on you;

considering also that I am God's minister, which amidst all the

tumults of my soul I dare not forget, I falter in beginning to

give advice which may prove contrary to the law of God. God

forbid, therefore, that I should say, disobey your parents,

where the Divine law does not command you to disobey them;

neither do I positively take upon myself to say that this is a

case in which the law of God requires you to act in

contradiction to them. I would rather suggest to your mother

some considerations which justify me in attempting to deprive

her of the company of a beloved child.

_October 26._--A Sabbath having intervened since the above was

written, I find myself more tranquillised by the sacred

exercises of the day. One passage of Scripture which you quote

has been much on my mind, and I find it very appropriate and

decisive,--that we are not to 'make to ourselves crooked paths,

which whoso walketh in shall not know peace.' Let me say I must

be therefore contented to wait till you feel that the way is

clear. But I intended to justify myself to Mrs. Grenfell. Let

her not suppose that I would make her or any other of my

fellow-creatures miserable, that I might be happy. If there were

no reason for your coming here, and the contest were only

between Mrs. Grenfell and me, that is, between her happiness and

mine, I would urge nothing further, but resign you to her. But I

have considered that there are many things that might reconcile

her to a separation from you (if indeed a separation is

necessary, for if she would come along with you, I should

rejoice the more). First, she does not depend on you alone for

the comfort of her declining years. She is surrounded by

friends. She has a greater number of sons and daughters

honourably established in the world than falls to the lot of

most parents--all of whom would be happy in having her amongst

them. Again, if a person worthy of your hand, and settled in

England, were to offer himself, Mrs. Grenfell would not have

insuperable objections, though it _did_ deprive her of her

daughter. Nay, I sometimes think, perhaps arrogantly, that had I

myself remained in England, and in possession of a competency,

she would not have withheld her consent. Why, then, should my

banishment from my native country, in the service of mankind, be

a reason with any for inflicting an additional wound, far more

painful than a separation from my dearest relatives?

I have no claim upon Mrs. Grenfell in any way, but let her only

conceive a son of her own in my circumstances. If she feels it a

sacrifice, let her remember that it is a sacrifice made to duty;

that your presence here would be of essential service to the

Church of God it is superfluous to attempt to prove. If you

really believe of yourself as you speak, it is because you were

never out of England.

Your mother cannot be so misinformed respecting India and the

voyage to it as to be apprehensive on account of the climate or

passage, in these days when multitudes of ladies every year,

with constitutions as delicate as yours, go to and fro in

perfect safety, and a vastly greater majority enjoy their health

here than in England. With respect to my means I need add

nothing to what was said in my first letter. But, alas! what is

my affluence good for now? It never gave me pleasure but when I

thought you were to share it with me. Two days ago I was

hastening on the alterations in my house and garden, supposing

you were at hand; but now every object excites disgust. My wish,

upon the whole, is that if you perceive it would be your duty to

come to India, were it not for your mother--and of that you

cannot doubt--supposing, I mean, that your inclinations are

indifferent, then you should make her acquainted with your

thoughts, and let us leave it to God how He will determine her

mind.

In the meantime, since I am forbidden to hope for the immediate

pleasure of seeing you, my next request is for a mutual

engagement. My own heart is engaged, I believe, indissolubly.

My reason for making a request which you will account bold is

that there can then be no possible objection to our

correspondence, especially as I promise not to persuade you to

leave your mother.

In the midst of my present sorrow I am constrained to remember

yours. Your compassionate heart is pained from having been the

cause of suffering to me. But care not for me, dearest Lydia.

Next to the bliss of having you with me, my happiness is to know

that you are happy. I shall have to groan long, perhaps, with a

heavy heart; but if I am not hindered materially by it in the

work of God, it will be for the benefit of my soul. You, sister

beloved in the Lord, know much of the benefit of affliction. Oh,

may I have grace to follow you, though at a humble distance, in

the path of patient suffering, in which you have walked so long!

Day and night I cease not to pray for you, though I fear my

prayers are of little value.

But, as an encouragement to you to pray, I cannot help

transcribing a few words from my journal, written at the time

you wrote your letter to me (March 7): 'As on the two last days'

(you wrote your letter on the 5th), 'felt no desire for a

comfortable settlement in the world, scarcely pleasure at the

thought of Lydia's coming, except so far as her being sent might

be for the good of my soul and assistance in my work. How

manifestly is there an omnipresent, all-seeing God, and how sure

we may be that prayers for spiritual blessings are heard by our

God and Father! Oh, let that endearing name quell every murmur!

When I am sent for to different parts of the country to

officiate at marriages, I sometimes think, amidst the festivity

of the company, Why does all go so easily with them, and so

hardly with me? They come together without difficulty, and I am

baulked and disconcerted almost every step I take, and condemned

to wear away the time in uncertainty. Then I call to mind that

to live without chastening is allowed to the spurious offspring,

while to suffer is the privilege of the children of God.'

Dearest Lydia, must I conclude? I could prolong my communion

with you through many sheets; how many things have I to say to

you, which I hoped to have communicated in person. But the more

I write and the more I think of you, the more my affection

warms, and I should feel it difficult to keep my pen from

expressions that might not be acceptable to you.

Farewell! dearest, most beloved Lydia, remember your faithful

and ever affectionate,

H. MARTYN.

_October 25._ (Sunday.)--Preached on Isaiah lii. 13 to a large

congregation, my mind continually in heaviness, and my health

disturbed in consequence. The women still fewer than ever at

Hindustani prayer, and, at night, some of the men who were not

on duty did not come; all these things are deeply afflicting,

and yet my heart is so full of its own griefs, that I mourn not

as I ought for the Church of God. I have not a moment's relief

from my burdens but after being some time in prayer; afterwards

my uneasiness and misery return again.

_October 26._--Mirza from Benares arrived to-day; I employed all

the day in writing letters to Mr. Brown, Corrie, and Lydia. The

last was a sweet and tranquillising employment to me. I felt

more submission to the Divine will, and began to be more

solicitous about Lydia's peace and happiness than my own. How

much has she been called to suffer! These are they that come out

of great tribulation.

TO REV. DAVID BROWN

Dinapore: October 26, 1807.

My dear Sir,--I have received your two letters of the 14th and

17th; the last contained a letter from Lydia. It is as I feared.

She refuses to come because her mother will not give her

consent. Sir, you must not wonder at my pale looks when I

receive so many hard blows on my heart. Yet a Father's love

appoints the trial, and I pray that it may have its intended

effect. Yet, if you wish to prolong my existence in this world,

make a representation to some persons at home who may influence

her friends. Your word will be believed sooner than mine. The

extraordinary effect of mental disorder on my bodily frame is

unfortunate; trouble brings on disease and disorders the sleep.

In this way I am labouring a little now, but not much; in a few

days it will pass away again. He that hath delivered and doth

deliver, is He in whom we trust that He will yet deliver.

* * * * *

The queen's ware on its way to me can be sold at an outcry or

sent to Corrie. I do not want queen's ware or anything else now.

My new house and garden, without the person I expected to share

it with me, excite disgust.

_November 25._--Letters came from Mr. Simeon and Lydia, both of

which depressed my spirits exceedingly; though I have been

writing for some days past, that I might have it in my power to

consider myself free, so as to be able to go to Persia or

elsewhere;--yet, now that the wished-for permission is come, I

am filled with grief; I cannot bear to part with Lydia, and she

seems more necessary to me than my life; yet her letter was to

bid me a last farewell. Oh, how have I been crossed from

childhood, and yet how little benefit have I received from these

chastisements of my God! The Lord now sanctify this, that since

the last desire of my heart also is withheld, I may with

resignation turn away for ever from the world, and henceforth

live forgetful of all but God. With Thee, O my God, there is no

disappointment; I shall never have to regret that I loved Thee

too well. Thou hast said, 'Delight thyself in the Lord, and He

shall give thee the desires of thine heart.'

_November 26._--Received a letter from Emma, which again had a

tendency to depress my spirits; all the day I could not attain

to sweet resignation to God. I seemed to be cut off for ever

from happiness in not having Lydia with me.

The receipt of his letter of October 24, 1807, was thus acknowledged,

before God, by Lydia Grenfell in her _Diary_:

_1808, May 9._--A letter from my dear friend in India

(requesting me to come out) reached me. These words form my

comfort: 'Be still, and know that I am God.' I see my duty

pointed out, and am persuaded, dark as the prospect is, God will

appear God in this matter; whether we meet again or not, His

great power and goodness will be displayed--it has been in

quieting my heart, for oh, the trial is not small of seeing the

state of his mind. But I am to be still, and now, O Lord, let

Thy love fill my soul, let it be supreme in his breast and mine;

there is no void where Thou dwellest, whatever else is wanting.

_May 11._--My mind distressed, perplexed, and troubled for my

dear friend; much self-reflection for having suffered him to see

my regard for him (and what it is), yet the comforts of God's

Word return--'Why take ye thought?' said our Lord. Yet to-morrow

burdens the present day. Oh, pity and support me to bear the

thought of injuring his peace--inquire if the cause is of God.

_May 15._--Lord, Thou seest my wanderings--oh, how many, how

great! Put my tears into Thy bottle. Yes, my Lord, I can forsake

Thee and be content; I turn and turn, restless and miserable,

till I am turned to Thee. What a week have I passed! never may

such another pass over my head!--my thoughts wholly occupied

about my absent friend--distressed for his distress, and full of

self-reproaches for all that's past--writing bitter things

against myself--my heart alienated dreadfully from God--and the

duties I am in the habit of performing all neglected. Oh, should

the Lord not awake for me and draw me back, whither should I go?

His Word has been my comfort at times, but Satan or conscience

(I doubt which) tells me I am in a delusion to take the comfort

of God's Word, for I ought to suffer. But am I justified in

putting comfort from me? since I no way excuse myself, but am, I

trust, humbled for my imprudence in letting my friend know the

state of mind towards him, and this is all I have injured him

in. I accuse myself, too, for want of candour with my family,

and oh, let me not forget the greatest offence of all--not

consulting the will and glory of God in indulging and

encouraging a regard He seems to frown on. I have to-day found

deliverance, and felt some measure of calm reliance. I know

there is a particular providence over him and me, but this

belief does not lessen my fears of acting wrong--I am as

responsible as if all were left to me. What shall I do but say,

Because Thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of Thy

wings will I trust? I fly to Thy power and take shelter in Thy

love to sinners. Oh, for a continually bleeding heart, mourning

for sin!

_June 12._--I have peace in my soul to-day. My remembrance of

God's dear saint in India is frequent, but I am still in this

affair, and expect to know more of the infinite power, wisdom,

and goodness of our God in it and by it than I have heretofore.

My prayer for him constantly is that he maybe supported, guided,

and made in all things obedient and submissive to the will of

his God.

Henry Martyn seems to have written again to Marazion, at this time, a

letter which has not been preserved, for Lydia Grenfell thus refers to

it:

_August 29._--Heard of my absent dear friend by this day's post,

and was strangely affected, though the intelligence was

satisfactory in every respect. I sought deliverance in prayer,

and the Lord spoke peace to my agitated mind, and gave me what I

desired--liberty of soul to return to Himself, and the

contemplation of heavenly things, though a sadness remained on

my spirit. Heard three sermons, for I thought it best to be less

alone than usual, lest my thoughts should wander. Found great

hardness of heart in the services of the day, but I doubt

whether my affections were spiritual or not, though they arose

from a longing to be in heaven, and a joyful sense of the

certainty that God would bring me there.

_September 11._--After some days of darkness and distress, sweet

peace and light return, and my soul rests on God as my

all-sufficient help. Oh, the idolatrous state of my heart! what

painful discoveries are made to me! I see the stream of my

affections has been turned from God and on.... An exertion must

be made, like cutting off a right hand, in order to give Thee, O

Lord, my heart. I must hear neither of nor from the person God

has called in His providence to serve Him in a distant country.

Oh, to be resolute, knowing by woeful experience the necessity

of guarding my thoughts against the remembrance of one, though

dear. As I value the presence of my God, I must avoid everything

that leads my thoughts to this subject--O Lord, keep me

dependent on Thee for grace to do so; Thou hast plainly informed

me of Thy will by withholding Thy presence at this time, and Thy

Word directed me to lay aside this weight.

_October 30._--Thought of my dear friend to-night with

tenderness, but entire resignation to Thy will, O our God, in

never seeing or hearing from him again; to meet him above is my

desire.

_December 30._--I reckon among my mercies the Lord's having

enabled me to choose a single life, and that my friend in India

has been so well reconciled to my determination. That trial was

a sore one, and I believe the effects of it will be felt as long

as I live. My weak frame could not support the perturbed state

of my mind, and the various painful apprehensions that assailed

me on his arrival nearly wore me down. But the Lord removed them

all by showing me He approved of my choice, and in granting me

the tidings of his enjoying peace and happiness in our

separation. Every burden now respecting him is removed, and my

soul has only to praise the wise and gracious hand which brought

me through that thorny path. It was one I made to myself, by

ever entering into a correspondence with him, and by expressing

too freely my regard.

On March 28, 1809, Martyn wrote to Mr. Brown:

Your letter is just come. The Europe letter is from Lydia. I

trembled at the handwriting.... It was only more last words,

sent by the advice of Colonel Sandys, lest the non-arrival of

the former might keep me in suspense.... I trust that I have

done with the entanglements of this world; seldom a day passes

but I thank God for the freedom from earthly care which I enjoy.

And so end Henry Martyn's love-letters, marked by a delicacy as well

as tenderness of feeling in such contrast to the action of Lydia

Grenfell throughout, as to explain the mingled resentment and

resignation in which they close. The request for a mutual engagement

which would justify correspondence at least seems to have been

unheeded for some months, till the news of his serious illness in July

1808 led her again to write to him, as taking the place of his sister

who had been removed by death. He was ordered to Cawnpore, and set off

in the hot season by Chunar and Ghazipore, writing these last words on

April 11, 1809, from Dinapore:

My men seem to be in a more flourishing state than they have yet

been. About thirty attend every night. I had a delightful party

this week, of six young men, who will, I hope, prove to be true

soldiers of Christ. Seldom, even at Cambridge, have I been so

much pleased.

FOOTNOTES:

[26] Even in 1889 we find a Patna missionary writing of his work from

Bankipore as a centre: 'The people in every village, except those on

the Dinapore road, said that no Sahib had ever been in their village

before. Sometimes my approach was the cause of considerable alarm.'

[27] _Memoir of the Rev. Thomas Thomason, M.A._, by Rev. J. Sargent,

M.A., 2nd edition, 1834, London.

[28] Rev. Dr. Milner.

[29] The names of Capt. Dare and Mrs. Dare occur in the _Journals and

Letters_ between February 17 and March 24, 1808, wherein Martyn's

relations with them are described just as in this set of letters.

[30] Mrs. Laura Curgenven: born January 1779, died in the year 1807.

[31] See Moule's _Charles Simeon_, p. 201.