He arrived the next morning at Shiraz, the capital of the Persian
empire. His first object was to ascertain from those best skilled
in the language, how well Sabat’s Persian translation would be
understood by the people. Finding that their opinion was against
it, he, in a little more than a week after his arrival, undertook
the task anew, with the assistance of Mirza Seid Ali Khan, who
belonged to the sect called Soofees. Whilst engaged in this work,
he was visited constantly by learned Persians, who argued with
him respecting the Christian religion and Mohammedism. But their
prejudices in favour of their sensual creed were too strong to yield
to mere arguments. Some of them were Jews who had become Mussulmans;
a very frequent change, as every such convert is rewarded with a new
dress, by the prince.—The condition of these wandering descendants
of Abraham, greatly excited his sympathy. On one occasion “while
walking in the garden, in some disorder from vexation, two Mussulman
Jews came up, and asked me what would become of them in another
world? the Mohammedans were right in their way, they supposed, and we
in ours; but what must they expect? After rectifying their mistake as
to the Mohammedans, I mentioned two or three reasons for believing
that we are right: such as their dispersion, and the cessation of
sacrifices, immediately on the appearance of Jesus. ‘True, true,’
they said, with great feeling and seriousness; indeed, they seemed
disposed to yield assent to any thing I said. They confessed they
had become Mohammedans only on compulsion; and that Abdoolghunee
wished to go to Bagdad, thinking he might throw off the mask there
with safety;—but asked, what I thought? I said that the governor
was a Mohammedan. ‘Did I think Syria safer?’ ‘The safest place in
the east,’ I said, ‘was India.’ Feelings of pity for God’s ancient
people, and having the awful importance of eternal things impressed
on my mind, by the seriousness of their inquiries as to what would
become of them, relieved me from the pressure of my comparatively
insignificant distresses. I, a poor Gentile, blest, honoured, and
loved, secured for ever by the everlasting covenant, whilst the
children of the kingdom are still lying in outward darkness! Well
does it become me to be thankful.”
Mr. Martyn did not discourage the love of disputation manifested
by the natives, hoping it might open the way for impressing the
truth, and finding that his assistant had already become interested
in the gospel history. But in consequence of his removing from the
city to the suburbs, that he might enjoy a pleasant garden and a
purer air, he was not so much in the way of interruption, and his
visiters became less numerous. In that retirement, by the side of a
clear stream, and amidst vines and orange trees, he devoted himself
constantly to the completion of his important task.
The curiosity and interest with which the missionary was regarded,
was not confined to a few private individuals of Shiraz. The
Professor of Mohammedan law agreed to hold a public dispute with him,
and we abridge the account of the meeting as given by Mr. Martyn,
that our readers may have an idea of the kind of arguments used in
favour of the imposture of Mohammed, and against the truth of the
gospel.
“He talked for a full hour about the soul: its being distinct
from the body, superior to the brutes, &c.; about God, his unity,
invisibility, and other obvious and acknowledged truths. After this
followed another discourse. At length, after clearing his way for
miles around, he said, ‘that philosophers had proved, that a single
being could produce but a single being; that the first thing God had
created was _Wisdom_,—a being perfectly one with him; after that, the
souls of men, and the seventh heaven; and so on, till he produced
matter, which is merely passive.’ He illustrated the theory, by
comparing all being to a circle: at one extremity of the diameter is
God, at the opposite extremity of the diameter is matter, than which,
nothing in the world is meaner. Rising from thence, the highest stage
of matter is connected with the lowest stage of vegetation; the
highest of the vegetable world, with the lowest of the animal, and so
on, till we approach the point from which all proceeded. ‘But,’ said
he, ‘you will observe, that next to God, something ought to be, which
is equal to God; for since it is equally near, it possesses equal
dignity. What this is, philosophers are not agreed upon. ‘You,’ said
he, ‘say it is Christ: but we, that it is the Spirit of the Prophets.
All this is what the philosophers have proved, independently of any
particular religion.’ There were a hundred things in the Professor’s
harangue, that might have been excepted against, as mere dreams,
supported by no evidence; but I had no inclination to call in
question dogmas, on the truth or falsehood of which, nothing in
religion depended.
“The Professor, at the close of one of his long speeches, said to
me, ‘You see how much there is to be said on these subjects; several
visits will be necessary; we must come to the point by degrees.’
Perceiving how much he dreaded a close discussion, I did not mean
to hurry him, but let him talk on, not expecting we should have any
thing about Mohammedism the first night. But at the instigation of
the Jew, I said, ‘Sir, you see that Abdoolghunee is anxious that
you should say something about Islam.’[9] He was much displeased
at being brought so prematurely to the weak point, but could not
decline accepting so direct a challenge. ‘Well,’ said he to me, ‘I
must ask you a few questions. Why do you believe in Christ?’—He then
enumerated the persons who had spoken of the miracles of Mohammed,
and told a long story about Salmon, the Persian, who had come to
Mohammed. I asked, ‘whether this Salmon had written an account of
the miracles he had seen?’ He confessed that he had not. ‘Nor,’ said
I, ‘have you a single witness to the miracles of Mohammed.’ He then
tried to show, that though they had not, there was still sufficient
evidence. ‘For,’ said he, ‘suppose five hundred persons should say
that they heard some particular thing of a hundred persons who were
with Mohammed,—would that be sufficient evidence, or not?’ ‘Whether
it be or not,’ said I, ‘you have no such evidence as that, nor any
thing like it; but if you have, as they are something like witnesses,
we must proceed to examine them, and see whether their testimony
deserves credit.’
“After this, the Koran was mentioned; but as the company began to
thin, and the great man had not a sufficient audience before whom
to display his eloquence, the dispute was not so brisk. He did not,
indeed, seem to think it worth while to notice my objections. He
mentioned a well known sentence in the Koran, as being inimitable.
I produced another sentence, and begged to know why it was inferior
to the Koranic one. He declined saying why, under pretext that it
required such a knowledge of rhetoric, in order to understand his
proofs, as I probably did not possess. A scholar afterwards came to
Seid Ali, with twenty reasons for preferring Mohammed’s sentence to
mine.”
“It was midnight when dinner, or rather supper, was brought in: it
was a sullen meal. The great man was silent, and I was sleepy. Seid
Ali, however, had not had enough. While burying his hand in the dish
of the professor, he softly mentioned some more of my objections. He
was so vexed, that he scarcely answered any thing; but after supper,
told a very long story, all reflecting upon me.”
His account of a subsequent appearance before a celebrated Soofie,
will further exemplify the character of the learned men of India, who
persist in rejecting the truth.
“In the evening we went to pay a long-promised visit to Mirza
Abulcasim, one of the most renowned Soofies in all Persia. We found
several persons sitting in an open court, in which a few greens
and flowers were placed; the master was in a corner. He was a
very fresh-looking old man, with a silver beard. I was surprised
to observe the downcast and sorrowful looks of the assembly, and
still more at the silence which reigned. After sitting some time
in expectation, and being not at all disposed to waste my time in
sitting there, I said softly to Seid Ali, ‘What is this?’ He said,
‘It is the custom here, to think much, and speak little.’ ‘May I ask
the master a question?’ said I. With some hesitation he consented to
let me: so I begged Jaffier Ali to inquire, ‘Which is the way to be
happy?’
“This he did in his own manner: he began by observing, that ‘there
was a great deal of misery in the world, and that the learned shared
as largely in it as the rest; that I wished, therefore, to know what
we must do to escape it.’ The master replied, that ‘for his part, he
did not know, but that it was usually said that the subjugation of
the passions was the shortest way to happiness.’
“After a considerable pause, I ventured to ask, ‘what were his
feelings in the prospect of death; hope, or fear; or neither?’
‘Neither,’ said he; and that ‘pleasure and pain were both alike.’ I
asked, ‘whether he had attained this apathy?’ He said, ‘No.’ ‘Why
do you think it attainable?’ He could not tell. ‘Why do you think
that pleasure and pain are not the same?’ said Seid Ali, taking his
master’s part. ‘Because,’ said I, ‘I have the evidence of my senses
for it. And you also act as if there was a difference. Why do you
eat, but that you fear pain?’ These silent sages sat unmoved.”
A defence of the religion of the Koran was also published in
Arabic, by the principal theological professor, or instructer of
Mohammedan priests, upon which much labour had been spent, and
which was pronounced to be the best work on the subject that had
ever appeared. The work concluded with an appeal to Mr. Martyn,
to consider the subject, and confess the truth of Mohammedism. He
immediately wrote a reply to it in Persian, exposing the heresy and
evil of the false faith, and showing the evidences of the Christian
religion; appealing, in turn, to the Mussulman author to view the
subject impartially, and to embrace the truth without fear of the
contempt, or even death it might cost him. The learned men of the
sect were very fond of arguing with Mr. Martyn on the subject;
but as their desire was not humbly to seek the way of God, but to
indulge their love of debate, and to display their skill in it,
there was little good effected by their conversations. The nephew
of the prince said, in the true spirit of Mohammed, that the proper
answer to the missionary was the sword; but the prince himself
acknowledged that his faith in the false prophet was shaken, and
greatly praised the reply of Mr. Martyn, who, when he was asked by
the prince, what were the laws of Christianity, (meaning how often
it required its believers to pray, wash, &c.,) said, that it had
two commandments—“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy
heart, and all thy soul, and all thy strength; and thy neighbour, as
thyself.” In these debates he had to endure great contempt from his
opponents, which is one of the severest trials a man of honourable
feeling, and a minister of the gospel, can be called to suffer. It
must have been a great aggravation of the sorrows of our Redeemer,
after he had come from Heaven, out of pure mercy to men, to find
himself disbelieved, and his affectionate entreaties, and the proofs
of his doctrine, treated with ridicule and scorn, by the very persons
he had come to seek and to save.
It was the recollection of what Christ had suffered in this respect,
that supported Mr. Martyn amidst the scoffs of the proud Mohammedans;
and he often repeated the verse,
“If on my face, for thy dear name,
Shame and reproaches be;
All hail reproach, and welcome shame,
If thou remember me.”
Although these men pass for sages amongst their own people, they
were very ignorant, in comparison with well-educated Europeans. One
of the sectaries, for instance, maintained against Mr. Martyn, that
there was no difference between pleasure and pain; and he was once
called upon in a large company, assembled at the house of the prime
minister of the territory, to prove that the earth moves: but no
one understood his explanations. Sometimes he would be questioned
on great principles which naturally led him to speak of the gospel;
but as soon as he mentioned any of its doctrines, they would divert
the conversation to some of the ridiculous ideas, upon which they
were accustomed to waste their thoughts. For instance, one of the
men who accompanied him as a guard to visit the ruins of Persepolis,
a celebrated ancient city, not far from Shiraz, “often broke a long
silence,” he says, “by a sudden question of this sort: ‘Sir, what
is the chief good of life?’ I replied, ‘The love of God:’ ‘What
next?’ ‘The love of man.’ ‘That is,’ said he, ‘to have men love
us, or to love them?’ ‘To love them.’ He did not seem to agree
with me. Another time he asked, ‘Who were the worst people in the
world?’ I said ‘Those who know their duty, and do not practise it.’
At the house where I was entertained, they asked me the question
which the Lord once asked, ‘What think ye of Christ?’ I generally
tell them at first, what they expect to hear, ‘The Son of God;’ but
this time I said, ‘The same as you say,—the word of God.’ ‘Was he a
Prophet?’ ‘Yes, in some sense, he was a Prophet; but, what it chiefly
concerns us to know, he was an Atonement for the sins of men.’ Not
understanding this, they made no reply. They next asked, ‘What did I
think of the soul?’ was it out of the body or in the body? I supposed
the latter. ‘No,’ they said, ‘it was neither the one nor the other;
but next to it, and the mover of the body.’”
We have some other specimens of these discussions.
“Aga Ali, of Media, came, and with him and Mirza Ali, I had a long
and warm discussion about the essentials of Christianity. The Mede
seeing us at work upon the epistles, said, ‘he should be glad to read
them; as for the gospels, they were nothing but tales, which were
of no use to him, for instance,’ said he, ‘if Christ raised four
hundred dead to life, what is that to me?’ I said, ‘It certainly
was of importance; for his works were a reason for our depending
upon his words.’ ‘What did he say,’ asked he, ‘that was not known
before: the love of God, humility,—who does not know these things?’
‘Were these things,’ said I, ‘known before Christ, either among
Greeks or Romans, with all their philosophy?’ They averred that the
Hindoo book Juh contained precepts of this kind. I questioned its
antiquity; ‘but however that may be,’ I added, ‘Christ came not to
_teach_, so much as to _die_; the truths I spoke of, as confirmed
by his miracles, were those relating to his person, such as, ‘Come
unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest.’ Here Mirza Seid Ali told him that I had professed to have
no doubt of my salvation. He asked what I meant? I told him, ‘that
though sin still remained, I was assured that it should not regain
dominion; and that I should never come into condemnation, but was
accepted in the Beloved.’ Not a little surprised, he asked Mirza Seid
Ali whether he comprehended this? ‘No,’ said he, ‘nor Mirza Ibraheem,
to whom I mentioned it.’ The Mede again turning to me, asked, ‘how
do you know this? how do you know you have experienced the second
birth?’ ‘Because,’ said I, ‘we have the Spirit of the Father; what
he wishes, we wish; what he hates, we hate.’ Here he began to be
a little more calm and less contentious, and mildly asked, how I
had obtained this peace of mind; ‘Was it merely those books?’ said
he, taking up some of our sheets. I told him ‘These books, with
prayer.’ ‘What was the beginning of it,’ said he, ‘the society of
some friends?’ I related to him my religious history, the substance
of which was, that I took my bible before God, in prayer, and prayed
for forgiveness through Christ, assurance of it through his Spirit,
and grace to obey his commandments. They then both asked whether the
same benefit would be conferred on them? I replied; ‘I bring you
this message from God, that he who, despairing of himself, rests
for righteousness on the Son of God, shall receive the gift of the
Holy Ghost; and to this I can add my testimony, if that be worth any
thing, that I have found the promise fulfilled in myself; but if you
should not find it so in you, accuse not the gospel of falsehood; it
is possible that your faith might not be sincere; indeed, so fully am
I persuaded that you do not believe on the Son of God, that if you
were to entreat ever so earnestly for baptism, I should not dare to
administer it at this time, when you have shown so many signs of an
unhumbled heart.’ ‘What! would you have me believe,’ said he, ‘as
a child?’ ‘Yes,’ said I. ‘True,’ said he, ‘I think that is the only
way.’ Aga Ali said no more but ‘Certainly he is a good man!’”
“Aga Neeser came, and talked most captiously and irrelevantly against
all revealed religion. Three years ago, he had thrown off the
shackles of Mohammed, and advised me to do the same with my yoke. I
told him, that I preferred my yoke to his freedom. He was for sending
me naked into a wilderness; but I would rather be a child under the
restraints of a parent, who would provide me with food and clothing,
and be my protector and guide. To every thing I said, he had but
one answer. ‘God is the sole agent; sin and holiness, happiness
and misery, cause and effect, are all perfectly one.’ Finding him
determined to amuse himself in this way, I said, ‘These things will
do very well for the present, while reclining in gardens and smoking
pipes; but not for a dying hour. How many years of life remain?
You are about thirty, perhaps thirty more remain. How swiftly have
the last thirty passed: how soon will the next thirty be gone: and
then we shall see. If you are right, I lose nothing; if I am right,
you lose your soul. Leaving out the consideration of all religion,
it is probable that the next world may be akin to this, and our
relation to both not dissimilar. But here we see that childhood is a
preparation for manhood, and that neglect of the proper employments
of childhood entails miseries in riper years.’ The thought of death,
and of separation from his pleasures, made him serious; or perhaps he
thought it useless to press me with any more of his opinions.”
Such was the state of the minds of the people whom he hoped to bring
to a reception of the gospel, to renounce Mohammed, and “confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father!” We may learn
more of the nature of their religion, by his account of the manner
in which their principal fast is observed. It is called the fast of
Ramazan, and is directed by the Koran to be kept during the month
called by that name.
“_Sept. 20th._—First day of the fast of Ramazan. All the family had
been up in the night, to take an unseasonable meal, in order to
fortify themselves for the abstinence of the day. It was curious to
observe the effects of the fast in the house. The master was scolding
and beating his servants; they equally peevish and insolent; and the
beggars more than ordinarily importunate and clamorous. At noon, all
the city went to the grand mosque.[10] My host came back with an
account of new vexations there. He was chatting with a friend, near
the door, when a great preacher, Hagi Mirza, arrived, with hundreds
of followers. ‘Why do you not say your prayers?’ said the new comers
to the two friends. ‘We have finished,’ said they. ‘Well,’ said the
other, ‘if you cannot pray a second time with us, you had better
move out of the way.’ Rather than join such turbulent zealots, they
retired. The reason of this unceremonious address was, that these
loving disciples had a desire to pray all in a row with their master,
which, it seems, is the custom. There is no public service in the
mosque; every man there prays for himself.”
“_Sept. 22d._—Sunday. My friends returned from the mosque, full of
indignation at what they had witnessed there. The former governor of
Bushire complained to the vizier, in the mosque, that some of his
servants had treated him brutally. The vizier, instead of attending
to his complaint, ordered them to do their work a second time; which
they did, kicking and beating him with their slippers, in the most
ignominious way, before all the mosque. This unhappy people groan
under the tyranny of their governors; yet nothing subdues or tames
them. Happy Europe! how has God favoured the sons of Japheth, by
causing them to embrace the gospel! How dignified are all the nations
of Europe compared with this nation! Yet the people are clever and
intelligent, and more calculated to become great and powerful than
any of the nations of the east, had they a good government, and the
Christian religion.”
“_Oct. 1st._—Thousands every day assemble at the mosque; it is
quite a lounge with them. Each, as soon as he has said his prayers,
sits down and talks to his friend. The multitude press to hear Hagi
Mohammed Hasan. One day they thronged him so much that he made some
error in his prostrations. This put him into such a passion, that he
wished that Omar’s[11] curse might come upon him, if he preached to
them again. However, a day or two after, he thought better of it.
This preacher is famous for letting out his money for interest; and
therefore, in spite of his eloquence, he is not very popular.”
“_Oct. 7th._—I was surprised by a visit from the great Soofie doctor,
who, while most of the people were asleep, came to me for some wine.
I plied him with questions innumerable; but he returned nothing but
incoherent answers, and sometimes no answer at all. Having laid
aside his turban, he put on his night-cap, and soon fell asleep upon
the carpet. Whilst he lay there, his disciples came, but would not
believe, when I told them who was there, till they came and saw the
sage asleep. When he awoke, they came in and seated themselves at
the greatest possible distance, and were all as still as if in a
church.
“The real state of this man seems to be despair, and it is well if
it do not end in madness. I preached to him the kingdom of God:
mentioning particularly how I had found peace from the Son of God
and the Spirit of God: through the first, forgiveness; through the
second, sanctification. He said it was good, but said it with the
same unconcern with which he admits all manner of things, however
contradictory. Poor soul! he is sadly bewildered.
“At a garden called Shah Chiragh, in which is the tomb of the brother
of one of the Imans, who was killed on the spot, a miracle is wrought
every Ramazan. The proprietor of the garden, in whose family it has
been for ages, finds its supposed sanctity abundantly profitable, as
he is said to make $9,000 a year of it. To keep alive the zeal of
the people, who make their offerings there every day, he procures a
villager, who pretends to be sick, and crying to Ali[12] for help;
and then, on the appointed day, recovers. Though this farce is played
off every year, the simpletons are never undeceived. Presents of
sheep, fowls, sweetmeats, money, flowed in upon the proprietor, who
skilfully turned all to the best advantage. Those who wished to see
the man’s face, were to pay so much, those who were anxious to touch
him, were to pay so much more; and so on.
“On two days in the Ramazan, tragedies were acted at our house,
in the women’s court. Two or three men, dressed in the Khan’s
court-robes, spouted and sung for an hour, before an immense
concourse of women, all veiled. The subject on the first day was the
death of Mohammed; on the second, that of Iman Hosyn.”
“_Oct. 18th._—“The Ramazan ended, or ought to have ended, but
the moon disappointed them. The Moollahs not having seen the new
moon, would not allow the fast to be over, and the people were, in
consequence, all in confusion; for not having eaten in the night,
they were not at all disposed to go through the day fasting. At last
some witnesses appeared, who vowed that they had seen the silver bow.
These were from the prince; but the Moollahs refused to admit them
till seventy-two of the same kind bore the same testimony. This was
no great number for a prince to produce; so the seventy-two appeared,
and the feast was proclaimed.”
FOOTNOTES:
[9] Another name for Mohammedism, signifying _the state of salvation_.
[10] The place of Mohammedan worship.
[11] Omar was the second of the Caliphs, or successors of Mohammed.
[12] A cousin of Mohammed, and head of a religious sect.