shou state After having preached at the anniversary of the Calcutta Bible Showed ciety, a sermon, which was published under the title of an "Appeal in behalf of 900,000 Christians in India, who want the Bible," embarked for Arabia, Jan. 7, 1811. He stopped a few days at Cowo lumbo; sailed along the Malabar coast; visited Goa and Bombay, and landed at Bushire in Persia, on the 22d of May. For the amusement of those, who are particularly fond of travel and new adventures, we quote Mr. Martyn's account of his journey from Bushire to Shiras, a distance of not much more than a hundred miles. "On 30th May our Persian dresses were ready, and we set out for Shirar The Persian dress consists of stockings and shoes in one, next a pair of large blue trowsers, or else a pair of huge red boots; then the shirt, then the tunic, and above it the coat, both of chintz, and a great coat. I have here described my own dress, most of which I have on this moment. On the head is worn an enor mous cone, made of the skin of the black Tartar sheep, with the wool on. If t this description of my dress I add, that my beard and mustachios have been suffered to vegetate undisturbed ever since I left India-that I am sitting on a Persian carpet, in a room without tables or chairs-that I bury my hand in the pilaw, without waiting for spoon or plate, you will give me credit for being already an accomplished Oriental. "At ten o'clock on the 30th, our cafila began to move. It consisted chiefly of mules, with a few horses. I wished to have a mule, but the muleteer favored me with his own poney; this animal had a bell fastened to his neck. To add solemnity to the scene, a Bombay trumpeter, who was going up to join the embassy, was directed to blow a blast as we moved off the ground; but whether it was, that the trumpeter was not adept in the science, or that his instrument was out of order, the crazy sounds that saluted our ears had a ludicrous effect. At last, after some justling, mutual recriminations, and recalcitrating of the steeds, we each found our places, and moved out of the gate of the city in good order. The Resident accompanied us a little way, and then left us to pursue our journey over the plain. It was in a fine moonlight night, the scene new, and perfectly oriental, and nothing prevented me from indulging my own reflections. ! felt a little melancholy, but commended myself anew to God, and felt assured of his blessing, protection, and presence. As the night advanced, the cafila grew quiet; on a sudden oue of the muleteers began to sing, and sang in a voice so plaintive, that it was impossible not to have one's attention arrested. Every voice was hushed. As you are a Persian scholar, I write down the whole, with a translation: "Thus far my journey was agreeable: now for miseries. At sunrise we came to our ground at Ahmedee, six parasangs, and pitched our little tent under a tree: it was the only shelter we could get. At first the heat was not greater than we had felt in India, but it soon became so great, as to be quite alarming.When the thermometer was above 112°, fever heat, I began to lose my strength fast; at last it became quite intolerable. I wrapped myself up in a blanket and all the warm covering I could get, to defend myself from the external air, by which means the moisture was kept a little longer upon the body, and not so speedily evaporated as when the skin was exposed: one of my companions for • See a Review of this Sermon, Panoplist vol. x, p. 538. for h for t Wen my pow that @ 2.5 wed my example, and found the benefit of it. But the thermometer still rising, nd the moisture of the body quite exhausted, I grew restless, and thought I hould have lost my senses. The thermometer at last stood at 126°: in this tate I composed myself, and concluded, that though I might hold out a day or wo, death was inevitable. Capt. ***, who sat it out, continued to tell the our, and height of the thermometer: with what pleasure did we hear of its inking to 120°, 118°, &c. At last the fierce sun retired, and I crept out, more lead than alive. It was then a difficulty how I could proceed on my journey; or besides the immediate effects of the heat, I had no opportunity of making up or the last night's want of sleep, and had eaten nothing. However, while they vere lading the mules, I got an hour's sleep, and sat out, the muleteer leading my horse, and Zachary, my servant, an Armenian of Isfahan, doing all in his power to encourage me. The cool air of the night restored me wonderfully, so that I arrived at our next munzel with no other derangement than that occasioned by want of sleep. Expecting another such day as the former, we began to make preparations the instant we arrived at the ground. I got a tattie, made of the branches of the date tree, and a Persian peasant to water it; by this means the thermometer did not rise higher than 114°. But what completely secured me from the heat, was a large wet towel, which I wrapped round my head and body, muffling up the lower part in my clothes. How could I but be grateful to a gracious Providence, for giving me so simple a defence against what, I am persuaded, would have destroyed my life that day. We took care not to go without nourishment, as we had done; the neighboring village supplied us with curds and milk. At sun-set, rising up to go out, a scorpion fell upon my clothes; not seeing where it fell, I did not know what it was; but Capt. *** pointing it out, gave the alarm, and I struck it off, and he killed it.—The night before, we found a black scorpion in our tent; this made us rather uneasy, so that though the cafila did not start till midnight, we got no sleep, fearing we might be visited by another scorpion. The next morning we arrived at the foot of the mountains, at a place where we seemed to have discovered one of nature's ulcers. A strong suffocating smell of naphtha announced something more than ordinarily foul in the neighborhood. We saw a river; what flowed in it, it seemed difficult to say, whether it were water or green oil; it scarcely moved, and the stones which it laved, it left of a greyish color, as if its foul touch had given them the leprosy. Our place of encampment this day was a grove of date trees, where the atmosphere, at sunrise, was ten times hotter than the ambient air. I threw myself down on the burning ground and slept: when the tent came up, I awoke, as usual, in a burning fever. All this day I had recourse to the wet towel, which kept me alive, but would allow of no sleep. It was a sorrowful Sabbath; but Capt. *** read a few hymns, in which I found great consolation. At nine in the evening we decamped. The ground and air were so insufferably hot, that I could not travel without a wet towel round my face and neck. This night, for the first time, we began to ascend the mountains. The road often passed so close to the edge of the tremendous precipice, that one false step of the horse would have plunged his rider into inevitable destruction. In such circumstances, I found is useless to attempt guiding the animal, and therefore gave him the rein. These poor animals were so used to journies of this sort, that they generally stept sure. There was nothing to_mark_the road, but the rocks being a little more worn in one place than in another. Sometimes, my horse, which led the way, as being the muleteer's, stopped, as if to consider about the way: for myself, I could not guess, at such times, where the road lay, but he always found it. The sublime scenery would have impressed me much, in other circumstances; but my sleepiness and fatigue rendered me insensible to every thing around me. At last we emerged, superas ad auras,* not to the top of a mountain to go down again, but to a plain or upper world. At the pass, where a cleft in the mountain admitted us into the plain, was a station of Rahdars. While they were examining the muleteer's passports, &c. time was given for the rest of the cafila to come up, and I got a little sleep for a few minutes. We rode briskly over the plain, breathing a purer air, and soon came in sight of a fair edifice, built by the king of * To the upper regions. VOL. XVI. 69 the country, for the refreshment of pilgrims. In this caravansara we took up our abode for the day. It was more calculated for Eastern than European trav ellers, having no means of keeping out the air and light. We found the thermometer at 110°. At the passes we met a man travelling down to Bushire with a load of ice, which he willingly disposed of to us. The next night we ascended another range of mountains, and passed over a plain, where the cold was so piercing, that, with all the clothes we could muster, we were shivering. At the end of this plain, we entered a dark valley, contained by two ranges of hills converging to one another. The muleteer gave notice he saw robbers. It proved to be a false alarm: but the place was fitted to be a retreat for robbers; there were on each side caves, and fastnesses, from which they might have killed at leisure, every man of us. After ascending another mountain, we descended by a very long and circuitous route, into an extensive valley, where we were exposed to the sun till eight o'clock. Whether from the sun, or continued want of sleep, could not, on my arrival at Carzeroon, compose myself to sleep; there seemed to be a fire within my head, my skin like a cinder, and the pulse violent. Through the day it was again too hot to sleep, though the place we occupied was a sort of summer house, in a garden of cypress trees, exceedingly well fitted up with mats and colored glass. Had the cafila gone on that night, I could not have accompanied it; but it halted here a day, by which means I got a sort of night's rest, though I awoke twenty times to dip my burning hands in water. Though Carzeroon is the second greatest town in Fars, we could get nothing but bread, milk, and eggs, and that with difficulty. The governor, who is under great obligations to the English, heard of our arrival, but sent us no message. “June 5.—At ten we left Carzeroon, and ascended a mountain; we then descended it, on the other side, into a beautiful valley, where the opening dawn discovered to us ripe fields of wheat and barley, with the green oak, here and there, in the midst of it. We were reminded of an autumnal morning in England. Thermometer, 62°. "6.-Half way up the Peergan mountains we found a caravansara. There being no village in the neighborhood, we had brought supplies from Carzeroon. My servant Zachary got a fall from his mule this morning, which much bruised him; he looked very sorrowful, and had lost much of his garrulity. Zachary became remarkable, throughout the cafila, for making speeches; he had something to say to all people, on all occasions. "7.-Left the caravansara at one this morning; continued to ascend. The hours we were permitted to rest, the musquitoes had effectually prevented me from using, so I never felt more miserable and disordered; the cold was very severe; for fear of falling off, from sleep and numbness, I walked a good part of the way. We pitched our tent in the Vale of Dustarjan, near a crystal stream. "8-Went on to a caravansara, three parasangs, where we passed the day. At night set out on our last march for Shiraz. Sleepiness, my old companion and enemy, again overtook me. I was in perpetual danger of falling off my horse, till at last I pushed my horse on to a considerable distance beyond the cafila, planted my back against a wall, and slept I know not how long; till the good muleteer came up and gently waked me. "In the morning of the 9th we found ourselves in the plain of Shiraz. We put up at first in a garden, but are now at Jaffer Ali Khan's." pp. 347-355. "At this celebrated seat of Persian literature," Mr. Martyn applied himself to the translation of the New Testament into the Persian language. An able assistant was obtained in the person of Mirza Seid Ali Khan, a professed Mahometan, but in reality a sort of mystical latitudinarian. On the 24th of February 1812, the last sheet of the New Testament was completed. By the middle of March a version of the Psalms, on which many pleasant hours had been spent. was also finished. While at Shiraz this indefatigable missionary had many interviews with Mahometans of rank, and several disputes with learned doctors. As a specimen of his intercourse with these men. we quote the following passage: "Mr. Martyn had now been resident for the space of ten months at Shiraz, during the whole of which time he had been almost incessantly engaged, as we have seen, in endeavoring to reclaim the wretched race of infidels around him from the error of their ways. So far was he from shrinking from any fair opportunity of confessing Christ before men, that he gladly embraced and boldly sought out every occasion of avowing "whose he was, and whom he served." Nor was this conduct in him the fruit of a contentious spirit; it was the genuine offspring of that heavenly charity, which, "rejoicing in the truth," is ever ready "to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints." No one could have a more deep-rooted antipathy to controversy, at all times, and with all persons, than Mr. Martyn: a paramount regard to what was indispensably due to the cause of his Redeemer alone could induce him to engage in it. "One public argument he had already held with the chief professor of Mahometan Law; a second disputation, of a similar, but far more decided character, he was led to enter into at this time, with Mirza Ibraheem. The scene of this discussion was a court, in the palace of one of the Persian Princes, where a numer ous body of Moollahs were collected, with Mirza Ibraheem at their head. In this assembly Mr. Martyn stood up, as the single advocate of the Christian faith. Fearing God like Micaiah the son of Imlah, he feared not man. In the midst therefore of a Mahometan conclave, he proclaimed and maintained that prime and fundamental article of true religion, the Divinity of the Son of God. "On the 23d," Mr. Martyn writes, "I called on the Vizier, afterwards on the Secretary of the Kermanshah Prince. In the court, where he received me, Mirza Ibraheem was lecturing. Finding myself so near my old and respectable an tagonist, I expre-sed a wish to see him, on which Jaffier Ali Khan went up to ascertain if my visit would be agreeable. The Master consented, but some of the disciples demurred. At last, one of them observing, that, by the blessing of God on the Master's conversation, I might possibly be converted,' it was agreed that I should be invited to ascend. Then it became a question where I ought to sit. Below all, would not be respectful to a stranger; but, above all the Moollahs, could not be tolerated. I entered, and was surprised at the numbers. The room was lined with Moollahs, on both sides, and at the top. I was about to sit! down at the door, but I was beckoned to an empty place near the top, opposite to the Master, who, after the usual compliments, without further ceremony, asked me, 'what we meant by calling Christ-God?' War being thus unequivocally declared, I had nothing to do but to stand upon the defensive. Mirza Ibraheem argued temperately enough, but of the rest, some were very violent and clamorous. The former asked, if Christ had ever called himself God; was he the Creator or a creature? I replied, 'The CREATOR. The Moollahs looked at one another. Such a confession had never before been heard among Mahome, tan Doctors. "One Mooilah wanted to controvert some of my illustrations, by interrogating me about the Personality of Christ. To all his questions I replied, by requesting the same information respecting his own person. To another, who was rather contemptuous and violent, I said, 'If you do not: approve of our doctrine, will you be so good as to say what God is according to you, that I may worship a proper object? One said, 'The author of the uni-, verse.' 'I can form no idea from these words,' said I, 'but of a workman at work upon a vast number of materials. Is that a correct notion? Another said, 'One who came of himself into being.' 'So then he came, I replied; 'came out of one place into another; and before he came, he was not. Is this an abstract and refined notion?' After this no one asked me any more questions; and for fear the dispute should be renewed, Jaffier Ali Khan carried me away." "After making this intrepid and memorable confession of the Divinity of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, when he might be described as "Faithful found Among the faithless; faithful, only he, His loyalty he kept-his zeal-his love”— Mr. Martyn continued only a short time at Shiraz. From his own hand we have this brief account of that interesting period which immediately preceded his departure. "Mirza Seid Ali never now argues against the truth, nor makes any remarb but of a serious kind. He speaks of his dislike to some of the Soofies, on accou of their falsehood and drunken habits. This approach to the love of morality is the best sign of a change for the better, I have yet seen in him. As often as produces the New Testament, which he always does when any of his friend come, his brother and cousin ridicule him; but he tells them, that supposing other benefit to have been derived, it is certainly something better to have gaiter all this information about the religion of Christians, than to have loitered ava the year in the garden." pp. 419-423. On the 24th of May he left Shiraz, and travelled by the way of Is pahan, (spelt by him Isfahan,) Tehran, Casbin, and Sultania, to Te briz, where the Persian court resided. Many interesting occurrences took place during this journey, for which we must refer the reader to the work itself. He arrived at Tebriz, July 5, quite sick, in constquence of exposure and fatigue; and was most hospitably received, and kindly attended, in the family of Sir Gore Ousefey, the English ambassador. The sickness, which continued nearly two months, defeated Mr. Martyn's original design; which was to present with his own hand to the Persian king, and to the prince his son, the version of the New Testament, which had been finished with so much labor. 'The copy was left, however, with Sir Gore Ouseley, who presented it to the king. The religious public well know how respectfully it was received, and how strongly approved and commended as a classical performance. Leaving Tebriz Sept. 2d, this faithful witness to the truth travelled by Erivan, right under mount Ararat, to Tocat in Turkey, where be finished his mortal course, on the 16th of October, 1812, in the 320 year of his age. In the retrospect of that interesting life, which has now been summarily reviewed, there occurs so much to arrest the attention, warm the hearts and enliven the hopes of Christians, that a few additional remarks seem almost indispensable. The preparation of a character designed to shine on the theatre of human action, and to shed a salutary influence upon mankind—or, to speak more justly, to display the goodness and wisdom of God, and to promote His glory in advancing human welfare--is an exbibition of Divine condescension and skill and prescience, calculated to impress with adoring views every attentive observer. "He maketh the wrath of man to praise Him, and restraineth the remainder of wrath." The adaptation of capacities, inclinations, views and circumstances to the stations men are to fill, and the duties which are to devolve on them, is no small part of this scene of providential wonders. It must be difficult, one would think, to leave the perusal of the life of MARTYN without an impression on the mind of a connexion in the series of events, which prepared the way for his remarkable Christian usefulness. One generation holds out to another the torch, which leads to the greatest discoveries, or points to the most useful improvements. A candle is not lighted, to use the apt illustration of our Lord, to be placed "under a bushel;" but its situation is made correspondent to its use. The examples of the wise and good, the learned and influential, and even of the patient, humble and resigned, becomes, in process of time, imperative on kindred minds under similar cir tyl an to be ra m 0 it 71 |