Still the desire of applause, and the ambition of distinction as a
scholar, that great temptation of ardent youth, kept him from making
much progress in the infinitely more important study of divine
truth. His heart was still destitute of humility, and he was not yet
sensible of the real vanity of human pursuits. This lesson, however,
the providence of God taught him in the manner which, of all others,
would make the deepest impression on such a mind as his. It was not
until he received the highest honours of college, in January 1801,
that he felt that temporal gratifications cannot satisfy the desires
of the soul. “I obtained my highest wishes,” he said, “but was
surprised to find that I grasped a shadow.” He felt a disappointment
which astonished himself, that the great object for which he had
laboured so hard, and sacrificed so much, and which had caused him
even to neglect the interest which he had in eternity, should now
seem as vain and unsatisfying, as if he had been toiling to pursue
a shadow! Happy is the youth who will not wait for experience to
convince him that this is a truth, and will believe what the word of
God asserts to be the end of all such hopes and efforts; who will
trust the declarations of those men who have tried for themselves,
and, like Martyn, have been obliged, in the midst of their triumph,
honestly to confess that they were disappointed of the happiness
which they calculated on as sure. Martyn had been so diligent in
order to gain this supposed reward, that his fellow-students called
him ‘the man who had not lost an hour;’ he found too late that he had
for ever lost many hours of opportunity of acquiring the knowledge
of divine truth, and of his own duty, and many hours of happiness,
such as all the honours, and even all the pleasures of learning, can
never confer, or compensate a man for its loss.
Martyn spent the vacation of the next summer at college, and had the
opportunity of being much alone; and his attention not being absorbed
by his studies as formerly, he was able to give a more serious and
deep attention to the condition of his soul. He devoted much time to
meditation upon his past life, the wandering of his affection from
God, and the necessity of some great change in his heart, to bring
him to make that willing devotion of himself to his service, which he
saw was reasonably required of him, and which he felt ought to be his
highest happiness.
“God,” he observes, “was pleased to bless the solitude and retirement
I enjoyed this summer, to my improvement: and not until then had I
ever experienced any real pleasure in religion. I was more convinced
of sin than ever, more earnest in fleeing to Jesus for refuge, and
more desirous of the renewal of my nature.”
His friendship with the Rev. Mr. Simeon, of Cambridge, and several
pious young men, was a great advantage in winning his affections to
religion, and giving him a correct view of the Christian character.
He had determined to apply himself to the study of law, chiefly, as
he confessed, “because he could not consent to be poor for Christ’s
sake,” but he now felt willing to cut off all prospect of temporal
distinction, and resolved to prepare for the ministry. The influence
of the Spirit seemed to attend the use of the means of spiritual
knowledge, so that he could write to a friend in September 1801,
“blessed be God, I have now experienced that Christ is the power of
God, and the wisdom of God. What a blessing is the gospel! No heart
can conceive its excellency, but that which has been renewed by
divine grace.” About the same time he wrote thus to his sister:
“When we consider the misery and darkness of the unregenerate world,
oh! with how much reason should we burst out into thanksgiving to
God, who has called us in his mercy through Christ Jesus! Who that
reflects upon the rock from which he was hewn, but must rejoice to
give himself entirely and without reserve to God, to be sanctified
by his Spirit. The soul that has truly experienced the love of God,
will not stay meanly inquiring how much he shall do, and thus limit
his service; but will be earnestly seeking, more and more, to know
the will of our heavenly Father, that he may be enabled to do it. O
may we be both thus minded! may we experience Christ to be our all in
all, not only as our Redeemer, but as the fountain of grace. Those
passages of the word of God which you have quoted on this head, are
indeed awakening; may they teach us to breathe after holiness, to be
more and more dead to the world, but alive unto God, through Jesus
Christ: We are lights in the world; how needful then that our tempers
and lives should manifest our high and heavenly calling. Let us, as
we do, provoke one another to good works, not doubting but that God
will bless our feeble endeavours to his glory.”
Happening to call at a house where a gentleman, with whom he had a
slight acquaintance, was lying ill, he found his wife in great agony,
on account of the unprepared state of her husband to enter eternity,
and in expectation of being left with her family entirely destitute
of maintenance, if he should die. He found it in vain to direct her
thoughts to God, whom they both had probably neglected to serve
in their prosperity, and he went to visit her daughters, who had
removed to another house, that their appearance of grief might not
disturb the dying man. Upon entering the room, he found a member of
college diverting their thoughts by reading a play to them. He was so
astonished and indignant at the sight, that he rebuked the young man
in such a manner that he thought it would produce a quarrel between
them. But he was joyfully surprised afterwards, when he came to thank
him for the reproof, and acknowledge that it had made a serious
impression on his mind, which proved to be permanent; and Mr. Martyn
was afterwards associated with him as a missionary in India.
In March 1802, Mr. Martyn was successful in being elected to a
fellowship in the college—a privilege granted to a select number
of the best scholars, who are, on certain conditions, supported by
the funds of the college, and have the privilege of residing there.
Soon afterwards he obtained the first prize, for having produced the
best Latin composition. Thus he was rising rapidly to distinction,
and his prospects of success in life were brilliant. His talents and
acquirements would no doubt have easily procured him honourable and
profitable employment. His strong natural passion of ambition had
every thing that is tempting in success, to allure him in its path:
the prospect of a distinguished career was opening most favourably
before him. The sincerity of his resolution to seek first the kingdom
of God, and his righteousness, was put to the strongest trial; yet,
through the Divine grace, he was enabled to overlook all these
temporal advantages, and made willing to consecrate his powers to the
promotion of the glory of God. He had resolved to enter the ministry:
but even in that profession, in England, there is a large field open
for ambition, and the learning and talents of Martyn might have
gained him some of the highest stations in the church, where wealth,
ease, and eminence could be enjoyed. But his great desire was to be
employed in the manner in which he could do the most good to his
fellow men, and promote the glory of God, by extending the knowledge
of Jesus Christ and his gospel. He knew, too, that in the humblest
station he would be most likely to increase in spiritual piety, as
he would be exposed to fewer of those temptations, by which he had
already been so much endangered. He therefore determined to become
a foreign missionary, and offered himself as such to the English
society, now called “The Church Missionary Society for Africa and the
East.”
It is too often the case, that in perusing the life of an eminent
disciple of Christ, the reader is led to suppose that the person who
is spoken of in such terms of praise by the author, was so excellent
that he went beyond the holiness and duty that are required of men
generally, and that his devotedness must be a ground of worth in the
sight of God. This manner of writing should be carefully avoided,
as it encourages human presumption, by leading men to trust much in
the amount of good that they may do, and flatters their pride by
persuading them that great sacrifices in the cause of Christianity
_entitle_ them to distinction, not only in this world, but in the eye
of heaven. Alas! it is because so few persons make any self-denial,
to promote the honour of the Redeemer, that such consequences
result. If every Christian were to give up all his property, and
leave home and family for ever, and go to dwell amongst the most
degraded nations of the furthest lands, it would not reach the amount
of obligation they are under; it would not equal, by ten thousand
degrees, the favours of Jesus Christ to this world. Man can never,
by all his good deeds, have a _claim_ to the rewards of heaven. Even
after a long life thus spent in wretchedness and banishment, for the
sake of doing good and converting souls, it is an act of God’s mere
mercy, and that for Christ’s sake, that any one is accepted as a
faithful servant, and in this sense, counted worthy of the kingdom of
heaven. But the usefulness of such writings consists in showing how
much good an individual, under the blessing of God, may perform; and
thus encouraging other men to undertake great plans of usefulness,
by the proof that He condescends to make use of human creatures in
accomplishing his great purposes of mercy to the world. An instance
of such devotedness to the service of God, is often more powerful
in inducing others to follow the example, than even the fact which
is so clear from scripture, that God effects his purposes by human
agency, and that it is therefore men’s duty to do their utmost, at
all hazards, to promote the divine designs. So it was in the case of
Martyn himself, whose thoughts were led to a missionary life, by the
accounts of the great success which had attended the labours of Dr.
Carey in India, and of David Brainerd among the American Indians. And
the object of preparing this life of Henry Martyn, is not to praise
him, for he only did his duty; and even this, as he acknowledged, he
did not do, (as no Christian in this life does,) with that entire
devotedness to Christ, and freedom from all sinful and selfish
motives which the service of our Divine master requires. But our
great design is to encourage our young readers to aim at doing much
for Christ; and to show the power of Divine grace which overcame the
worldly ambition, and love of wealth and comfort, which were natural
to Martyn, and induced him to leave all prospect of happiness from
these sources, and to give himself up wholly to the employment of
carrying the knowledge of the way of salvation to nations who were in
all the darkness of idolatry.
Nor are we to suppose that it cost Martyn no struggle, to give up all
these prospects. Men are seldom so much sanctified, as to make great
sacrifices with entire cheerfulness. He had still to strive with
his pride, his love of the world, his indisposition to toil amongst
a wretched and ignorant people; but he found strength to sustain
these trials by persevering, earnest prayer; by meditating more on
the duty he owed his Maker, and the return which the atonement that
Christ had made for his sins, called for from him. Thus, through
God’s favour, not through any ability of his own, he became the
useful man he afterwards was in India.
The nature of the temptations he underwent at times, may be
understood from his own candid statement of them to his pious sister.
“I received your letter yesterday, and thank God for the concern you
manifest for my spiritual welfare. O that we may love each other
more and more in the Lord. The passages you bring from the word of
God, were appropriate to my case, particularly those from the first
Epistle of St. Peter, and that to the Ephesians; though I do not seem
to have given you a right view of my state. The dejection I sometimes
labour under seems not to arise from doubts of my acceptance with
God, though it tends to produce them; nor from desponding views
of my own backwardness in the divine life, for I am more prone
to self-dependence and conceit; but from the prospect of the
_difficulties I have to encounter in the whole of my future life_.
The thought that I must be unceasingly employed in the same kind of
work, amongst poor ignorant people, is what my proud spirit revolts
at. To be obliged to submit to a thousand uncomfortable things that
must happen to me, whether as a minister or a missionary, is what
the flesh cannot endure. At these times I feel neither love to God,
nor love to man; and in proportion as these graces of the Spirit
languish, my besetting sins, pride, and discontent, and unwillingness
for every duty, make me miserable.
“You will best enter into my views by considering those texts which
serve to recall me to a right aspect of things. I have not that
coldness in prayer you would expect, but generally find myself
strengthened in faith and humility and love after it: but the
impression is so short. I am at this time enabled to give myself,
body, soul, and spirit, to God, and perceive it to be my most
reasonable service. How it may be when the trial comes, I know
not, yet I will trust and not be afraid. In order to _do_ his will
cheerfully, I want love for the souls of men; to _suffer_ it, I want
humility: let these be the subjects of your supplications for me. I
am thankful to God that you are so free from anxiety and care: we
cannot but with praise acknowledge his goodness. What does it signify
whether we be rich or poor, if we are sons of God? How unconscious
are they of their real greatness, and will be so till they find
themselves in glory! When we contemplate our everlasting inheritance,
it seems too good to be true; yet it is no more than is due to the
kindred of ‘God manifest in the flesh.’
“A journey I took last week into Norfolk seems to have contributed
greatly to my health. The attention and admiration shown me are
great and very dangerous. The praises of men do not now, indeed,
flatter my vanity as they formerly did; I rather feel pain, through
anticipation of their consequences: but they tend to produce,
imperceptibly, a self-esteem and hardness of heart. How awful and
awakening a consideration is it, that God judgeth not as man judgeth!
Our character before him, is precisely as it was before or after
any change of external circumstances. Men may applaud or revile,
and make a man think differently of himself; but _He_ judgeth of
a man according to his secret walk. How difficult is the work of
self-examination! Even to state to you, imperfectly, my own mind, I
found to be no easy matter. Nay, St. Paul says, ‘I judge not mine own
self, for he that judgeth me is the Lord.’ That is, though he was
not conscious of any allowed sin, yet he was not thereby justified,
for God might perceive something of which he was not aware. How
needful then, the prayer of the Psalmist, ‘Search me, O God, and
try my heart, and see if there be any evil way in me.’ May God be
with you, and bless you, and uphold you with the right hand of his
righteousness: and let us seek to love; for ‘he that dwelleth in love
dwelleth in God, for God is love.’”
His diary furnishes a farther insight into his experience, and the
resoluteness with which he opposed the wavering of his faith by
continual application to the promises of God in Christ.
“Since I have endeavoured to divest myself of every consideration
independent of religion, I see the difficulty of maintaining
a liveliness in devotion for any considerable time together;
nevertheless, as I shall have to pass the greater part of my future
life, after leaving England, with no other source of happiness than
reading, meditation, and prayer, I think it right to be gradually
mortifying myself to every species of worldly pleasure.”—“In all
my past life I have fixed on some desirable ends, at different
distances, the attainment of which was to furnish me with happiness.
But now, in seasons of unbelief, nothing seems to lie before me but
one vast uninteresting wilderness, and heaven appearing but dimly at
the end. Oh! how does this show the necessity of living by faith!
What a shame that I cannot make the doing of God’s will my ever
delightful object, and the prize of my high calling the mark after
which I press!”
“I was under disquiet at the prospect of my future work, encompassed,
as it appeared, with difficulties; but I trusted I was under the
guidance of infinite wisdom, and on that I could rest. Mr. Johnson,
who had returned from a mission, observed that the crosses to be
endured were far greater than could be conceived; but ‘none of these
things move me, neither count I my life dear unto me, so that I might
finish my course with joy.’—Had some disheartening thoughts at night,
at the prospect of being stripped of every earthly comfort; but who
is it that maketh my comforts to be a source of enjoyment? Cannot
the same hand make cold, and hunger, and nakedness, and peril, to be
a train of ministering angels conducting me to glory?”—“O my soul,
compare thyself with St. Paul, and with the example and precepts of
the Lord Jesus Christ. Was it not his meat and drink to do the will
of his heavenly Father?”
“What is the state of my own soul before God? I believe that it is
right in principle: I desire no other portion but God: but I pass
so many hours as if there were no God at all. I live far below the
hope, comfort, and holiness of the Gospel: but be not slothful, O
my soul;—look unto Jesus the author and finisher of thy faith. For
whom was grace intended, if not for me? Are not the promises made to
me? Is not my Maker in earnest, when he declareth that he willeth my
sanctification, and hath laid help on one that is mighty? I will
therefore have no confidence in the flesh, but will rejoice in the
Lord, and the joy of the Lord shall be my strength. May I receive
from above a pure, a humble, a benevolent, a heavenly mind!”
“Learnt by heart some of the first three chapters of Revelations.
This is to me the most searching and alarming part of the Bible; yet
now with humble hope I trusted, that the censures of my Lord did not
belong to me: except that those words, Rev. ii. 3. ‘For my name’s
sake thou hast laboured and hast not fainted,’ were far too high a
testimony for me to think of appropriating to myself; nevertheless I
besought the Lord, that whatever I had been, I might now be perfect
and complete in all the will of God.”—“Men frequently admire me,
and I am pleased; but I abhor the pleasure I feel; oh! did they but
know that my root is rottenness!”—“Heard Professor Farish preach at
Trinity Church, on Luke xii. 4, 5, and was deeply impressed with
the reasonableness and necessity of the fear of God. Felt it to be
a light matter to be judged of man’s judgment; why have I not awful
apprehensions of the glorious Being at all times? The particular
promise—‘him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple
of my God, and he shall go no more out,’ dwelt a long time in my
mind, and diffused an affectionate reverence of God.”—“I see a
great work before me now, namely, the subduing and mortifying of my
perverted will. What am I that I should _dare_ to do my own will,
even if I were not a sinner; but now how plain, how reasonable to
have the love of Christ constraining me to be his faithful willing
servant, cheerfully taking up the cross he shall appoint me.”—“Read
some of Amos. The reading of the Prophets is to me one of the most
delightful employments. One cannot but be charmed with the beauty of
the imagery, while they never fail to inspire me with awful thoughts
of God and of his hatred of sin. The reading of Baxter’s Saint’s
Rest, determined me to live more in heavenly meditation.”—“Walked by
moonlight, and found it a sweet relief to my mind to think of God and
consider my ways before him. I was strongly impressed with the vanity
of the world, and could not help wondering at the imperceptible
operation of grace, which had enabled me to resign the expectation of
happiness from it.”—“How frequently has my heart been refreshed, by
the descriptions in the Scriptures of the future glory of the Church,
and the happiness of man hereafter.”—“I felt the force of Baxter’s
observation, that if an angel had appointed to meet me, I should be
full of awe; how much more when I am about to meet God.”
“Ah! what a heart is mine! The indistinctness of my view of its
desperate wickedness is terrible to me, that is, when I am capable of
feeling any terror. But now my soul! rise from earth and hell,—shall
Satan lead me captive at his will, when Christ ever liveth to make
intercession for the vilest worm? O thou! whose I am by creation,
preservation, redemption, no longer my own, but, his who lived and
died and rose again, once more would I resign this body and soul,
mean and worthless as they are, to the blessed disposal of thy holy
will! May I have a heart to love God and his people, the flesh being
crucified! May grace abound, where sin has abounded much! May I
cheerfully and joyfully resign my ease and life in the service of
Jesus, to whom I owe so much! May it be sweet to me to proclaim to
sinners like myself, the blessed efficacy of my Saviour’s blood!
May he make me faithful unto death! The greatest enemy I dread is
the pride of my own heart. Through pride reigning, I should forget
to know a broken spirit: then would come on unbelief, weakness,
apostacy.”
“Let then,” he wrote to a friend, “no obstacle intervene, to
prevent the increase of my self-knowledge, in which I am lamentably
deficient. Let us both bend our minds to the discipline necessary to
obtain it, and communicate our discoveries for our mutual benefit.
How strongly is the importance of self-knowledge, and the difficulty
of obtaining it, marked by these words; ‘Keep thy heart with all
diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.’ And to those who
cannot keep their hearts for want of knowing any thing about them,
very compassionate are the words of our Lord; ‘Because thou knowest
not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and
naked, I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou
mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and
that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear; and anoint thine
eyes with eye salve, that thou mayest see.’ You put me in mind, in
your last letter, of former days. What fruit had we then in those
things, whereof we are now ashamed? But those days have passed away
for ever. And when glory shall open upon our view, neither sorrow
nor sin, shall again interrupt our joys for ever. I will echo your
words, and say, ‘What manner of love is this, that we should be
called the sons of God!’ We may look upon one another, and remember
our former selves, and say, ‘What hath God wrought!’ ‘Not by works
of righteousness which thou hast done, but according to his mercy
he saved thee.’ Now then, my dear brother, let all the rest of our
life be cheerfully devoted to God. We are no longer our own, but are
bought with a price—with what a price! Let us adore him also, that
we are called in our youth; that while our hearts are susceptible of
warm emotions, they are taught the glow of Divine affections. Let us
glorify him on the earth, if many years are assigned us, and finish
the work which he hath given us to do. And may we come to our graves
in a full age, as a shock of corn cometh in his season.”