From Cornwall, Mr. Martyn returned to Cambridge, where he continued
to assist Mr. Simeon in his church. Although distressed with the
consciousness of his sinfulness, and unworthiness to be a minister
of Christ, he had comforts also, which assured him that he had an
interest in his Divine Redeemer: so that he could confidently say, “I
wish for no service but the service of God;—to labour for souls on
earth, and to do his will in heaven;” and at another time, “O hasten
the day when I shall come to thee; when I shall no more be vexed, and
astonished, and pained, at the universal wretchedness of this lost
earth. But here would I abide my time, and spend and be spent for
the salvation of any poor soul; lie down at the feet of sinners, and
beseech them not to plunge into an eternity of torment.” It will be
instructive to copy here some pages from his letters and diary, in
which he wrote down the state of his feelings at this period.
“We should consider it as a sign for good, my dearest S——, when the
Lord reveals to us the almost desperate corruption of our hearts.
For, if he causes us to groan under it, as an insupportable burden,
he will, we may hope, in his own time give us deliverance. The
pride which I see dwelling in my own heart, producing there the
most obstinate hardness, I can truly say my soul abhors. I see it
to be unreasonable, I feel it to be tormenting. When I sometimes
offer up supplications, with strong crying to God, to bring down my
spirit into the dust, I endeavour calmly to contemplate the infinite
majesty of the most high God, and my own meanness and wickedness.
Or else I quietly tell the Lord, who knows the heart, that I would
give him all the glory of every thing, if I could. But the most
effectual way I have ever found, is to lead away my thoughts from
myself and my own concerns, by praying for all my friends; for the
church, the world, the nation; and especially by beseeching, that
God would glorify his own great name, by converting all nations
to the obedience of faith;—also by praying that he would put more
abundant honour on those Christians whom he seems to have honoured
especially, and whom we see to be manifestly our superiors. This is
at least a positive act of humility, and it is certain that not only
will a good principle produce a good act, but the act will increase
the principle. But even after doing all this, there will often arise
a certain self-complacency which has need to be checked; and in
conversation with Christian friends, we should be careful, I think,
how self is introduced. Unless we think that good will be done, self
should be kept in the back ground, and mortified. We are bound to
be servants of all, ministering to their pleasure as far as will be
to their profit. We are to ‘look not at our own things, but at the
things of others.’ Be assured, my dear S—— that night and day, making
mention of you in my prayers, I desire of God to give you to see the
depth of pride and iniquity in your heart, yet not to be discouraged
at the sight of it: that you may perceive yourself deserving to be
cast out with abhorrence from God’s presence; and then may walk in
continual poverty of spirit, and the simplicity of a little child.
Pray, too, that I may know something of humility. Blessed grace! how
it smooths the furrows of care, and gilds the dark paths of life! It
will make us kind, tender-hearted, affable, and enable us to do more
for God and the gospel, than the most fervent zeal without it.”
“_Sept. 30th, 1804._—My mind, this morning, easily ascended to God,
in peaceful solemnity. I succeeded in finding access to God, and
being alone with him. Could I but enjoy this life of faith more
steadily, how much should I ‘grow in grace,’ and be renewed in the
spirit of my mind. At such seasons of fellowship with the Father, and
his Son Jesus Christ, when the world, and self, and eternity, are
nearly in their right places, not only are my views of duty clear
and comprehensive, but the proper motives have a more constraining
influence.”
“_Oct. 28th._—This has been in general a happy day. In the
morning, through grace, I was enabled by prayer to maintain a calm
recollection of myself,—and what was better, of the presence of my
dear Redeemer. From the church I walked to our garden, where I was
above an hour, I trust with Christ, speaking to him chiefly of my
future life in his service. I determined on entire devotedness,
though with trembling; for the flesh dreads crucifixion. But should
I fear pain, when Christ was so agonized for me? No,—come what will,
I am determined, through God, to be a fellow worker with Christ. I
recollected with comfort, that I was speaking to the great Creator,
who can make such a poor weak worm as myself ‘more than conqueror.’
At church I found by the attention of the people, that the fervour of
my spirit yesterday had been conveyed into my sermon. I came to my
room, rejoicing to be alone again, and to hold communion with God.”
“_Dec. 9th._—This has been in general a sweet and blessed day,—a
foretaste of my eternal sabbath. Preached on the third commandment:
in the afternoon on the tenth. Rode back to Cambridge, feeling quite
willing to go any where, or to suffer any thing for God. Preached in
Trinity church, on Ezek. xxxiii. 11. ‘Say unto them,—As I live saith
the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked: but that
the wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from your
evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel?’ It was pleasant
to me to think of being alone again with God.”
“_Jan. 1, 1805._—Hitherto hath the Lord helped me. It is now about
five years since God stopped me in the career of worldliness, and
turned me from the paths of sin:—three years and a half since I
turned to the Lord with all my heart:—and a little more than two
years since he enabled me to devote myself to his service as a
missionary. My progress of late has become slower than it had
been: yet I can truly say, that in the course of this time, every
successive year, every successive week, has been happier than the
former. From many dangerous snares hath the Lord preserved me: in
spite of all my inward rebellion, he hath carried on his work in
my heart; and in spite of all my unbelieving fears, he hath given
me a hope full of immortality;—‘he hath set my foot on a rock, and
established my goings, and hath put a new song in my mouth, even
praises to my God.’ It is the beginning of a critical year to me: yet
I feel little apprehension. The same grace and long suffering, the
same wisdom and power, that have brought me so far, will bring me
on, though it be through fire and water, to a goodly heritage. I see
no business in life but the work of Christ, neither do I desire any
employment to all eternity but his service. I am a sinner saved by
grace. Every day’s experience convinces me of this truth. My daily
sins and constant corruption leave me no hope, but that which is
founded on God’s mercy in Christ. His spirit, I trust, is imparted,
and is renewing my nature; as I desire much, though I have attained
but little. Now to God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, would I
solemnly renew my self-dedication, to be his servant for ever.”
“I could not help reflecting on the almost supernatural fervour
and deep devotion which came upon me, whilst I declared that I
had rightfully no other business each day but to do God’s work as
a servant, constantly regarding his pleasure.” “My thoughts were
full of what God would do for his own glory, in the conversion of
multitudes to himself in the latter day. I did not wish to think
about myself in any respect, but found it a precious privilege to
stand by, a silent admirer of God’s doings.”
In March 1805, he completed the time required, before he could be
sent out as a minister, and there was nothing more to detain him
from proceeding on his mission. “I rejoice to say,” (he wrote at
this time to his sister,) “that I never had so clear a conviction of
my call as at present,—as far as it respects the inward impression.
Never did I see so much the exceeding excellency, and glory, and
sweetness of the work, nor had so much the favourable testimony of
my own conscience, nor perceived so plainly the smile of God. I am
constrained to say,—what am I, or what is my father’s house, that
I should be made willing;—what am I, that I should be so happy, so
honoured?”—In his Journal, likewise, he expresses himself to the
same effect: “I felt more persuaded of my call than ever: there was
scarcely the shadow of a doubt left;—rejoice, O my soul,—thou shalt
be the servant of God in this life, and in the next, for all the
boundless ages of eternity.”
In April he went to London, where he remained two months, principally
employed in learning Hindoostanee, the language of a large part of
India, made up of the Sanscrit, Persian, and Arabic. The entries of
his diary during this interval will best exhibit the state of his
heart, in anticipation of his employment.
“_April 15th._—O may God confirm my feeble resolutions! What have I
to do but to labour, and pray, and fast, and watch, for the salvation
of my own soul, and those of the heathen world. Ten thousand times
more than ever do I feel devoted to that precious work. O gladly
shall this base blood be shed, every drop of it, if India can be
benefited in one of her children;—if but one of those children of God
Almighty might be brought home to his duty.”
“_April 16th._—How careful should I, and all be, in our ministry,
not to break the bruised reed! Alas! do I think that a schoolboy,
a raw academic, should be likely to lead the hearts of men?—what
a knowledge of men, and acquaintance with the Scriptures, what
communion with God, and study of my own heart, ought to prepare me
for the awful work of a messenger from God on the business of the
soul!”
“_April 22d._—I do not wish for any heaven upon earth besides that of
preaching the precious Gospel of Jesus Christ to immortal souls. May
these weak desires increase and strengthen with every difficulty.”
“_April 27th._—My constant unprofitableness seemed to bar my approach
to God. But I considered that for all that was past, the blood of
Christ would atone; and that for the future, God would that moment
give me grace to perform my duty.”
“_May 9th._—O my soul, when wilt thou live consistently? When shall I
walk steadily with God? When shall I hold heaven constantly in view?
How time glides away,—how is death approaching,—how soon must I give
up my account,—how are souls perishing,—how does their blood call out
to us to labour and watch, and pray for them that remain!”
“_June 1._—Memory has been at work to unnerve my soul: but reason,
and honour, and love to Christ and souls shall prevail. Amen. God
help me.”
“_June 2._—My dear Redeemer is a fountain of life to my soul. With
resignation and peace can I look forward to a life of labour and
entire seclusion from earthly comforts, while Jesus thus stands near
me, changing me into his own image.”
“_June 6th._—God’s interference in supporting me continually, appears
to me like a miracle.”
“_June 7th._—I have not felt such heart-rending pain since I parted
with L—— in Cornwall. [The lady to whom he was attached.] But the
Lord brought me to consider the folly and wickedness of all this. I
could not help saying,—Go, Hindoos, go on in your misery,—let Satan
still reign over you; for he that was appointed to labour among
you, is consulting his ease.—No, thought I, earth and hell shall
never keep me back from my work. I am cast down, but not destroyed.
I began to consider why I was so uneasy,—‘Cast thy care upon him,
for he careth for you.’ ‘In every thing by prayer and supplication,
with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God;’—these
promises were sweetly fulfilled, before long, to me.”
“_July 4th._—Mr. Cecil showed me a letter in Swartz’s own hand
writing. Its contents were of a very experimental nature,—applicable
to my case. The life of faith in Jesus is what I want. My soul might
almost burst with astonishment at its own wickedness! but at the same
time, trusting to mercy, rise and go, and try to make men happy. The
Lord go with me! Let my right hand forget her cunning, if I remember
not Jerusalem above my chief joy.”
On the 8th of July 1805, Mr. Martyn proceeded to Portsmouth, from
which place he was to sail in a ship of the East India Company, to
Calcutta, there to act as chaplain of the Company. His feelings were
so painful, that he fainted and fell into a fit at a tavern on the
road. He was met by a number of friends at Portsmouth, who had come
to bid him a final farewell, for this life; and he received there a
silver compass, sent by his congregation, as a token of remembrance,
which he acknowledged in the following letter:
_Portsmouth, July 11, 1805._
“_My dearest Brethren_,—I write in great haste to thank you most
affectionately for the token of your love, which our dear brother
and minister has given me from you. O may my God richly recompense
you for your great affection! May he reward your prayers for me, by
pouring tenfold blessings into your own bosoms! May he bless you with
all spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus! At the command of God, as I
believe, I shall, in a few hours, embark for those regions where your
little present may be of use to me, in guiding my way through the
trackless desert. I pray that the word of God, which is your compass,
may, through the Spirit, direct your path through the wilderness of
this world, and bring you in safety to the better country above. I
beg your prayers, and assure you of mine. Remember me sometimes at
your social meetings, and particularly at that which you hold on
the Sabbath morning. Pray not only for my sinful soul,—that I may
be kept faithful unto death;—but especially, for the souls of the
poor Heathen. Whether I live or die, let Christ be magnified by the
ingathering of multitudes to himself. I have many trials awaiting
me, and so have you; but that covenant of grace in which we are
interested, provides for the weakest, and secures our everlasting
welfare.—Farewell, dear Brethren! May God long continue to you the
invaluable labours of your beloved minister; and may you, with the
blessing of his ministry, grow, day by day, in all spirituality and
humility of mind; till God, in his mercy, shall call you, each in
his own time, to the eternal enjoyment of his glory.”
On the 17th July the ship sailed, in company with a fleet, taking an
army to India. “It was a very painful moment,” he wrote to one of his
friends, “when I awoke, on the morning after you left us, and found
the fleet actually sailing down the channel. Though it was what I
had anxiously been looking forward to so long, yet the consideration
of being parted for ever from my friends, almost overcame me. My
feelings were those of a man who should suddenly be told, that every
friend he had in the world was dead. It was only by prayer for them
that I could be comforted; and this was indeed a refreshment to my
soul, because by meeting them at the throne of grace, I seemed to be
again in their society.”
The vessel, however, unexpectedly stopped in two days, at Falmouth,
an English port, in sight of Cornwall. It was a renewal of the pain
of separation to be thus brought again, for a short time, upon the
shores which he had supposed he had left for ever. He appears, from
his Journal, to have suffered great struggles with his earthly
affections: but he was supported by Him who never leaves his
disciples to contend alone with the trials of their faith.
“_July 29th._—I was much engaged, at intervals, in learning the
hymn, ‘The God of Abraham praise;’ as often as I could use the
language of it with any truth, my heart was a little at ease.
‘The God of Abraham praise,
At whose supreme command
From earth I rise, and seek the joys
At his right hand.’
‘I all on earth forsake,
Its wisdom, fame, and power;
And him my only portion make,
My shield and tower.’
“There was something peculiarly solemn and affecting to me in this
hymn, and particularly at this time. The truth of the sentiments I
knew well enough. But alas! I felt that the state of mind expressed
in it was above mine at the time; and I felt loth to forsake all on
earth.”
“I went on board in extreme anguish, and found an opportunity in
the sloop by which I passed to the ship, to cry, with brokenness
of spirit, to the Lord. The words, ‘Why sayest thou, O Jacob, and
speakest, O Israel, My way is hid from the Lord, and my judgment is
passed over from my God?’ were brought to my mind with such force,
that I burst into a flood of tears, and felt much relieved in my
soul, by the thought that God was thus compassionate, and the blessed
Lord Jesus a merciful and compassionate High Priest, who condescended
to sympathize with me. In the afternoon, it pleased God to give me a
holy and blessed season in prayer, in which my soul recovered much
of its wonted peace.”
Orders for the sailing of the fleet with which his ship was
connected, were given on the 10th of August, whilst Martyn was twenty
miles in the country. An express was sent after him; but had not an
accident happened to the ship in clearing from the harbour, he would
have been too late. On the 14th, the fleet anchored again for two
weeks, at Cork, in Ireland. He had suffered much from despondence and
weakness of health, and speaks in his Journal of the trials of his
lot as being far greater than he had expected. But he was blessed
also with spiritual consolation, in proportion as he placed his
confidence on Him who called him to the service. On one occasion he
says,
“After a long and blessed season in prayer, I felt the spirit
of adoption drawing me very near to God, and giving me the full
assurance of his love. My fervent prayer was, that I might be more
deeply and habitually convinced of his unchanging everlasting love,
and that my whole soul might be altogether in Christ. I scarcely knew
how to express the desires of my heart. I wanted to be all in Christ,
and to have Christ for my ‘all in all;’—to be encircled in his
‘everlasting arms, and to be swallowed up altogether in his fulness.
I wished for no created good, nor for men to know my experience:
but to be one with thee, and live for thee, O God, my Saviour and
Lord. O may it be my constant care to live free from the spirit of
bondage, at all times having access to the Father. This I feel should
be the state of the Christian: perfect reconciliation with God, and
a perfect appropriation of him in all his endearing attributes,
according to all that he has promised: it is this that shall bear me
safely through the storm.”
And some weeks afterwards:
“_Sept. 23._—We are just to the south of all Europe, and I bid adieu
to it for ever, without a wish of ever revisiting it, and still less
with any desire of taking up my rest in the strange land to which I
am going. Ah! no,—farewell, perishing world! ‘To me, to live shall be
Christ.’ I have nothing to do here, but to labour as a stranger, and
by secret prayer and outward exertion, do as much as possible for the
church of Christ and my own soul, till my eyes close in death, and
my soul wings its way to a brighter world. Strengthen me, O God my
Saviour! that, whether living or dying, I may be thine.”
He preached once every Sunday on board the ship, the captain not
permitting it more frequently. To make up for this loss, he almost
daily read religious books, with remarks of his own, to as many as
would assemble to hear him; but he could gain the serious attention
of very few.
“_Sept. 10th._—Endeavoured to consider what should be my study and
preparation for the mission; but could devise no particular plan,
but to search the Scriptures, what are God’s promises respecting
the spread of the gospel, and of the means by which it shall be
accomplished. Long seasons of prayer in behalf of the heathen, I am
sure, are necessary; Isaiah lxii. I began Isaiah, and learnt by heart
the promises scattered through the first twelve chapters, hoping
it may prove profitable matter for meditation as well as prayer.
Read the Pilgrim’s Progress, below, amidst the greatest noise and
interruption. Notwithstanding the clamour, I felt as if I could
preach to a million of noisy persons with unconquerable boldness. We
have been becalmed the whole day. I fear my soul has been much in the
same state: but I would not that it should be so any longer.”
“_Sept. 15th._—Sunday.—‘He that testifieth these things, saith,
behold—I come quickly—Amen—even so—come quickly, Lord Jesus!’ Happy
John! though shut out from society and the ordinances of grace: happy
wast thou in thy solitude, when by it thou wast induced thus gladly
to welcome the Lord’s words, and repeat them with a prayer. Read and
preached on Acts xiii. 38, 39. In the latter part, when I was led to
speak, without preparation, on the all-sufficiency of Christ to save
sinners, who come to him with all their sins without delay, I was
enabled by divine aid, to speak with freedom and energy: my soul was
refreshed, and I retired, seeing reason to be thankful. The weather
was fair and, calm, inviting the mind to tranquillity and praise: the
ship just moved upon the face of the troubled ocean. I went below in
hopes of reading Baxter’s Call to the Unconverted: but there was no
getting down, as they were taking out water: so I sat with the seamen
on the gun-deck. As I walked in the evening at sunset, I thought with
pleasure, but a few more suns, and I shall be where my sun shall no
more go down.”
“_Sept. 16th._—Two things were much in my mind this morning in
prayer; the necessity of entering more deeply into my own heart, and
labouring after humiliation, and, for that reason, setting apart
times for fasting: as also to devote times for solemn prayer for
fitness in the ministry; especially love for souls; and for the
effusion of the Spirit on heathen lands; according to God’s command.”
The study of the Hindoostanee language was part of his employment
during the voyage. He also instructed some of the young soldiers in
mathematics, and read French with a passenger. As they entered the
warm latitudes, he found his strength diminishing very fast, and he
began to fear he could never be useful, as a preacher, in India.
“But what means this anxiety?” he said; “Is it not of God that I am
led into outward difficulties, that my faith may be tried? Suppose,”
(addressing himself,) “you are obliged to return, or that you never
see India, but wither and die here, what is that to you? Do the will
of God where you can, and leave the rest to him.”—About this time he
was much impressed with this sentence in Milner’s Church History;—“to
believe, to suffer, and to love, was the primitive taste;” and he
received great encouragement by being thus led to contemplate the
examples of those who had been more bold in serving Christ.