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Home » Publications » Free Presbyterian Magazine » 1927 » December 1927 » Biographical Sketch of the Rev. Henry Martyn, B.D

Biographical Sketch of the Rev. Henry Martyn, B.D

III. (Continued from p. 277.)

UNEXPECTEDLY, the vessel was forced to put back to Falmouth, where Mr Martyn had an opportunity of spending three weeks with his friends, after which he again embarked, and in a short time the shores of England had disappeared from his view. During the voyage he spent his time partly in study, and partly in labouring to promote the spiritual interests both of the sailors and of the soldiers on board ship. On reaching the Cape, the following beautiful passage occurs in his Journal :—

“ January 30.—Rose at five, and began to ascend Table Mountain at six with S . . . and M . . . I went on chiefly alone. I thought of the Christian life —what uphill work it is—and yet there are streams flowing down from the top, just as there was water coming down by the Kloof, by which we ascended. Towards the top it was very steep, but the hope of being soon at the summit encouraged me to ascend very lightly. As the Kloof opened, a beautiful flame-coloured flower appeared in a little green hollow, waving in the breeze. It seemed to be an emblem of the beauty and peacefulness of heaven, as it shall open upon the weary soul when its journey is finished, and the struggles of the death-bed are over. We walked up and down the whole length, which might be between two and three miles, and one might be said to look round the world from this promontory. I felt a solemn awe at the grand prospect, from which there was neither noise nor small objects to draw off my attention. I reflected, especially when looking at the immense expanse of sea on the East, which was to carry me to India, on the certainty that the name of Christ should at some period resound from shore to shore. I felt commanded to wait in silence, and see how God would bring His promises to pass. We began to descend at half-past two. Whilst sitting to rest myself towards night, I began to reflect with death-like despondency on my friendless condition. Not that I wanted any of the comforts of life, but I wanted those kind friends who loved me, and in whose company I used to find such delights after my fatigues. And then, remembering that I should never see them more, I felt one of those keen pangs of misery that occasionally shoot across my breast. It seemed like a dream that I had actually undergone banishment from them for life; or rather like a dream that I had ever hoped to share the enjoyments of social life. But, at this time, I solemnly renewed my self-dedication to God, praying that for His service I might receive grace to spend my days in continued suffering, and separation from all I held most dear in this life—for ever. Amen.—How vain and transitory are those pleasures which the worldliness of my heart will ever be magnifying into real good! The rest of the evening I felt weaned from the world and all its concerns, with somewhat of a melancholy tranquillity.”

At length, after a voyage of nine months from the date of his leaving Portsmouth, Mr Martyn’s eyes were gratified with a sight of India. This was to be the scene of his labours; and the very extent of the field, and the apparent hopelessness of the enterprise, seem to have affected his mind almost immediately on landing. “What surprises me,” says he, “is the change of views I have here from what I had in England. There my heart expanded with hope and joy at the prospect of the speedy conversion of the Heathen, but here the sight of the apparent impossibility requires a strong faith to support me.”

On arriving at Calcutta, Mr Martyn was hospitably received into the house of the Rev. David Brown, whose devoted piety and Christian worth were peculiarly remarkable, and not long after he had taken up his residence there, he was seized with a severe attack of fever, which for some time was rather alarming. His feelings are thus described by his own pen:—”I could derive no comfort from reflecting on my past life. Indeed, exactly in proportion as I looked for evidences of grace, I lost that brokenness of spirit I wished to retain, and could not lie with simplicity at the foot of the cross. I really thought that I was departing this life. I began to pray as on the verge of eternity; and the Lord was pleased to break my hard heart. I lay in tears interceding for the unfortunate natives of this country, thinking with myself that the most despicable soodar of India was of as much value in the sight of God as the king of Great Britain.”

(To be continued.)


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