I.
HENRY MARTYN was born at Truro, in the county of Cornwall, on the 18th of February 1781. His father had originally followed the humble occupation of a miner, but by diligent attention to the acquisition of knowledge, he rose from a state of poverty and depression to one of comparative ease and comfort, having been admitted as chief clerk to a merchant in Truro. Henry’s education was commenced at the grammar school of the town, and his progress appears to have been satisfactory both to his master and his parents. His dispositions at this early period of his life are represented to have been of a very amiable cast, tender and affectionate, mild and pliant.
After having remained at school till he was between fourteen and fifteen years of age, he was induced to become a candidate for a vacant scholarship at Corpus Christi College, Oxford. In the competition, however, he was unsuccessful, and in after life he adverted to his disappointment as having originated in the wise arrangements of his heavenly Father, who had thereby altered the whole aspect of his future history. After this repulse, Henry returned home, and continued at school some time longer. At length he entered St John’s College, Cambridge, where he studied with the utmost ardour and perseverance. Providentially for his spiritual improvement, he had the privilege of the conversation and company of a religious friend at College, besides enjoying the tender counsels and admonitions of a sister in Cornwall, who was a Christian of a meek, heavenly, and affectionate spirit. To the latter, particularly, he was indebted for much instruction in that knowledge which alone, by the blessing of the Spirit, “maketh wise unto salvation.” In speaking of her frequent conversations with him on spiritual matters, he thus expresses himself:—”I went home this summer, and was frequently addressed by my dear sister on the subject of religion; but the sound of the Gospel conveyed in the admonition of a sister, was grating on my ears.” The first result of her tender exhortations and earnest endeavours was very discouraging; a violent conflict took place in her brother’s mind, between his conviction of the truth of what she urged and his love of the world; and for the present, the latter prevailed: yet sisters, similarly circumstanced, may learn from this case not merely their duty, but from the final result, the success they may anticipate from the faithful discharge of it.—”I think,” he observes, when afterwards reviewing this period with a spirit truly broken and contrite, “I do not remember a time in which the wickedness of my heart rose to a greater height, than during my stay at home. The consummate selfishness and exquisite irritability of my mind were displayed in rage, malice, and envy, in pride and vain glory, and contempt of all; in the harshest language to my sister, and even to my father, if he happened to differ from my mind and will; O what an example of patience and mildness was he! I love to think of his excellent qualities, and it is frequently the anguish of my heart that I ever could be base and wicked enough to pain him by the slightest neglect. O my God and Father, why is not my heart doubly agonized at the remembrance of all my great transgressions against Thee ever since I have known Thee as such! I left my sister and father in October, and him I saw no more. I promised my sister that I would read the Bible for myself, but on being settled at College, Newton engaged all my thoughts.”
Henry’s residence at College for more than two years was productive of much improvement in scientific knowledge, but he still remained ignorant of those truths which are infinitely superior in value to all the learning of the schools. At length, however, in the providence of God, his mind became deeply impressed with a sense of the importance of religion. The event which seems to have been instrumental in arousing him from his melancholy indifference on this vitally important subject, was his father’s death. It was very pleasing to his sister to perceive from his letters that a decided change had taken place in his views and feelings in regard to divine things. He still continued to exert himself with as much ardour as ever in his studies at College, but the spirit from which he acted was essentially different. He no longer counted secular knowledge the only, or even the chief object of pursuit; and though at the early age of twenty, he succeeded in carrying off the highest academical honours, his reflection on the occasion shows the moderate view which he took of all earthly blessings: “I obtained my highest wishes,” he said, “but was surprised to find I had grasped a shadow.” And yet, with such subdued feelings, he did not relax in his perseverance to attain an acquaintance with the most important departments of human learning; nay, so great was his diligence that by his fellow-students he was designated “the man who had not lost an hour.” Christians have the strongest of all motives to be industrious, time acquires with them a peculiar value, as hurrying them onward to that solemn hour when “we must each one of us give an account of himself to God.”
After having made a short visit to his friends in Cornwall, Henry returned again to Cambridge, where he studied so assiduously that in a short time he obtained a fellowship in St John’s College. Shortly before this he had become personally acquainted with the Rev. Mr Simeon, to whose pious and affectionate instructions he, in common with multitudes, felt that he owed much. It was in consequence of a remark made by this honoured servant of Christ, in reference to the benefit which had accrued from the labours of Dr Carey in India, that Martyn was first led to think of dedicating himself to the missionary cause. This resolution was soon after confirmed by reading the life and labours of David Brainerd, whose ardent piety and apostolic exertions excited in the mind of the youthful Martyn a strong desire to imitate his example. At length, after serious consideration of the subject in all its bearings, and earnest prayer to the Almighty for His direction, he offered himself as a missionary to the Church Missionary Society, then called the Society for Missions to Africa and the East. His feelings at this important crisis in his history may be drawn from the following letter, addressed at the time to his youngest 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 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 blood of God manifest in the flesh.”
In the following year, Mr Martyn received ordination to the office of the holy ministry, and commenced the exercise of his pastoral functions as curate of Mr Simeon in the church of the Holy Trinity in Cambridge, undertaking likewise the charge of the parish of Solworth, a small village at no great distance from the University. At this place, in the very outset of his ministry, an incident occurred which seems to have made a deep impression upon his mind:—”An old man, who had been one of his auditors, walked by the side of his horse for a considerable time, warning him to reflect, that if any souls perished through his neglect, their blood would be required at his hand. He exhorted him to show his hearers that they were perishing sinners; to be much engaged in secret prayer; and to labour after an entire departure from himself to Christ.” “From what he said on the last head,” observes Mr Martyn, “it was clear that I had but little experience; but I lifted my heart afterwards to the Lord, that I might be fully instructed in righteousness.” So meekfully and thankfully did this young minister listen to the affectionate counsel of an old disciple.
(To be continued.)