Chapter XIV: The Two Resting-Places--Tokat and Breage

The Armenians were a comparatively strong community in Tokat, where they formed a third of the population, for whom there were seven churches and thirty priests. Henry Martyn was known as a friend of this, the oldest church in Asia. He had sought out their priests and families all over Persia and the Araxes valley, and ministered to many of this oppressed people. The two servants with whom he had journeyed as far as Tokat were Armenians, and he especially trusted Sergius, whom he had engaged at Etchmiatzin, as one about to visit Constantinople, and not unfamiliar with the route. The body of the wearied traveller to the city of the Great King was laid to rest in the extensive cemetery of the church of Karasoon Manoog. Later research revealed the fact that the body was buried in simple and reverent Oriental fashion--not in a coffin, but in such a white winding-sheet as that which for forty hours enwrapped the Crucified. The story afterwards went that the chaplain-missionary of the East India Company was carried to the tomb with all the honours of an Armenian archbishop. That is most probable, for the Armenian clergy of Calcutta, Bushire, and Shiraz always gave him priestly honours during life. The other tradition--that his burial was hardly decent--has arisen from the circumstances that attended the search for his grave and the removal of his dust to the American Mission Cemetery forty years afterwards.

TOKAT IN 1812]

Far away, in the most distant corner of Asiatic Turkey, or Turkish Arabia, at Baghdad, there was one[88] Anglo-Indian scholar and Christian, who hastened to discharge the pious duty of carving on a limestone slab above the precious remains a Latin inscription. That was the East India Company's civil servant, James Claudius Rich. Born near Dijon in 1787--six years after Martyn--and taken in his infancy to Bristol, he there manifested such extraordinary linguistic powers, even in boyhood, that Joshua Marshman, before he went out to Serampore, helped him with books and introduced him to Dr. Ryland. Robert Hall formed such an opinion of his powers, which the earliest Orientalist, Sir Charles Wilkins, tested, that he received an appointment to the Bombay Civil Service, and was introduced to Sir James Mackintosh. He went to India overland through Turkish Asia, disguised as a Georgian Turk, so that the Mecca pilgrims at Damascus did not discover him. He married Sir James's eldest daughter,[89] and had set out as the Company's Resident at Baghdad and Busrah, not long before Martyn arrived at Bombay. The two men never met, for Martyn's attempt to enter Arabia from Persia through Baghdad was stopped. But the young Orientalist watched Martyn's career with admiration, and seems to have followed his footsteps. In 1821 he himself was cut off by cholera, while ministering to the plague-stricken in Shiraz, leaving a name imperishably associated with that of Sir James Mackintosh, and dear to all Oriental scholars and travellers, but henceforth to be remembered above all as that of the man who was the first to perpetuate the memory of Henry Martyn.[90]

The sacred spot was immediately at the foot of slaty rocks down which the winter snows and summer rains washed enough of stony soil every year to cover up the horizontal slab. The first to visit it with reverent steps after the pious commission of Claudius James Rich had been executed, was Sir Robert Ker Porter. Although only a few years had elapsed, he seems to have failed to see the inscription which fitly commemorated the 'Sacerdos ac Missionarius Anglorum,' so that he thus beautifully wrote: 'His remains sleep in a grave as humble as his own meekness; but while that high pyramidal hill, marked with its mouldering ruins of heathen ages, points to the sky, every European traveller must see in it their honoured countryman's monument.'

In 1830, when the American Board's missionaries, Eli Smith and H.G.O. Dwight, visited Tokat, they had little difficulty in finding the spot, from which they wrote: 'An appropriate Latin inscription is all that distinguishes his tomb from the tombs of the Armenians who sleep by his side.'[91] They urged their Board to make Tokat its centre of operations for the people of Second Armenia, as Cæsarea for those of the First and Third Armenia, and Tarsus for those of Cilicia. As they, reversing his northward journey, reached Tabreez sick, they were cared for, first by Dr., afterwards Sir John McNeill, and then by Dr. Cormick, the same physician who healed Martyn of a similar disease when he was at this city. 'He seemed to have retained the highest opinion of him as a Christian, a companion, and a scholar.'

In 1841 Mr. George Fowler published his _Three Years in Persia_, in which a chapter is filled with reminiscences of Henry Martyn.

Of this distinguished missionary and champion of the Cross, who
fearlessly unfolded his banner and proclaimed Christ amongst the
bigoted Mahometans, I have heard much in these countries, having
made acquaintance with some persons who knew him, and saw (if I
may so say) the last of him. At the General's table at Erzroom
(Paskevitch), I had the honour to meet graffs and princes,
consisting of Russians, Georgians, Circassians, Germans,
Spaniards, and Persians, all glittering in their stars and
orders, such a _mélange_ as is scarcely to be found again under
one banner; looking more like a monarch's levy than anything
else. My neighbour was an Armenian bishop, who, with his long
flowing hair and beard, and austere habits, the cross being
suspended to his girdle, presented a great contrast to the
military chiefs. There were many other priests at the table, of
whom he was the principal. He addressed me in my native tongue
very tolerably, asking if I had known anything of the
missionary, Martyn. The name was magic to my ear, and
immediately our colloquy became to me of great interest.

The bishop was the Serrafino of whom Martyn speaks in his
_Journal_, I happening at the time to have it with me. He was
very superior to the general caste of the Armenian clergy,
having been educated at Rome, and had attained many European
languages. He made Martyn's acquaintance at Etchmiatzin, the
Armenian monastery at Erivan, where he had gone to pay a visit
to the Patriarch or chief of that people, and remained three
days to recruit his exhausted strength. He described him to me
as being of a very delicate frame, thin, and not quite of the
middle stature, a beardless youth, with a countenance beaming
with so much benignity as to bespeak an errand of Divine love.
Of the affairs of the world he seemed to be so ignorant, that
Serrafino was obliged to manage for him respecting his
travelling arrangements, money matters, etc. Of the latter he
had a good deal with him when he left the monastery, and seemed
to be careless, and even profuse, in his expenditure. He was
strongly recommended to postpone his journey, but from his
extreme impatience to return to England these remonstrances were
unavailing. A Tartar was employed to conduct him to Tokat.
Serrafino accompanied him for an hour or two on the way--with
considerable apprehensions, as he told me, of his ever arriving
in his native country.[92] He was greatly surprised, he said,
not only to find in him all the ornaments of a refined
education, but that he was so eminent a Christian; 'since (said
he) all the English I have hitherto met with, not only make no
profession of religion, but live seemingly in contempt of it.'

I endeavoured to convince him that his impression of the English
character was in this respect erroneous; that although a Martyn
on the Asiatic soil might be deemed a phœnix, yet many such
existed in that country which gave him birth; and I instanced to
him the Christian philanthropy of my countrymen, which induced
them to search the earth's boundaries to extend their faith. I
told him of our immense voluntary taxation to aid the
missionaries in that object, and of the numerous Christian
associations,--for which the world was scarcely large enough to
expend themselves upon.

He listened with great attention, and then threw in the
compliment, 'You English are very difficult to become acquainted
with, but when once we know you we can depend on you.' He
complained of some part of Martyn's _Journal_ referring to
himself, respecting his then idea of retiring to India, to write
and print some works in the Armenian language, tending to
enlighten that people with regard to religion. He said that what
followed of the errors and superstitions of the Armenian Church
should not have been inserted in the book, nor did he think it
would be found in Martyn's _Journal_. His complaint rested much
on the compilers of the work in this respect; he said, 'these
opinions were not exactly so expressed, and certainly they were
not intended to come before the public, whereby they might
ultimately be turned against me.'

At Erzroom, on my way to Persia, I had met with an Italian
doctor, then in the Pasha's employ, from whom I heard many
interesting particulars respecting Martyn. He was at Tokat at
the time of our countryman's arrival and death, which occurred
on October 16, 1812; but whether occasioned by the plague, or
from excessive fatigue by the brutal treatment of the Tartar, he
could not determine. His remains were decently interred in the
Armenian burying-ground, and for a time the circumstance was
forgotten. Some years afterwards, a gentleman, at the request of
the British ambassador in Constantinople, had a commemorative
stone erected to his memory, and application was made to the
Armenian bishop to seek the grave for that purpose. He seemed to
have forgotten altogether such an occurrence, but referring to
some memoranda which he had made of so remarkable a case as that
of interring a Feringhi stranger, he was enabled to trace the
humble tablet with which he had distinguished it. It is now
ornamented with a white slab, stating merely the name, age, and
time of death of the deceased.

I had many reminiscences of Martyn, at Marand particularly. I
quitted this place at midnight, just at the time and under the
circumstances which he describes. 'It was a most mild and
delightful night, and the pure air, after the smell of the
stable, was reviving.' I was equally solitary with himself. I
had attached great interest to my resting-place, believing it to
have been the same on which Martyn had reposed, from his own
description, as it was the usual reception for travellers, the
_munzil_, or post-house. Here I found myself almost alone, as
with Aliverdy, my guide, not three words of understanding
existed between us. Martyn says, 'They stared at my European
dress, but no disrespect was shown.' Exactly so with me: the
villagers stood around questioning my attendant, who was showing
me off, I know not why.

Martyn's description of the stable was precisely what I found
it; thus--'I was shown into the stable, where there was a little
place partitioned off, but so as to admit a view of the horses.'
He was 'dispirited and melancholy.' I was not a little touched
with this in my solitariness, and sensibly felt with the poet:

Thou dost not know how sad it is to stray
Amid a foreign land, thyself unknown,
And, when o'erwearied with the toilsome day,
To rest at eve and feel thyself alone.

At Khoi, on my return, I witnessed the Persian ceremony related
by Martyn in his _Journal_ of the death of Imam Hussein--the
anniversary of which is so religiously observed in that country.
At Tabreez I heard much of him who was

Faithful found
Among the faithless--faithful only he,
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrifed,
His loyalty he kept--his zeal--his love.

I scarcely remember so bright an ornament to the Christian
profession, on heathen land, as this hero of the Cross, who was
'patient in tribulation, rejoicing in hope;' and I heard him
thus spoken of by those who could estimate the _man_, and
perhaps not appreciate the _missionary_--'If ever there was a
saint on earth, it was Martyn; and if there be now an angel in
heaven, it is Martyn.' Amidst the contumely of the bigoted
Mussulmans, he had much to bear, as to the natural man, amongst
whom he was called an 'Isauvi' (the term given to Christians).

I know of no people where, to all human calculation, so little
prospect opens of planting the Cross. The moollas are by no
means averse to religious discussion, and still remember the
'enlightened infidel,' as Martyn was called; but so bigoted are
these benighted Moslems, and show so much zeal, as I noticed at
their Ramazan, that they scorn us, and, I may say, they shame
us. It is interesting, when looking at those dark regions, to
inquire--when shall the Cross triumph over the Crescent? when
shall the riches and power of the Gospel spread over their soil,
root up the weeds of error, and produce the fruits of
righteousness?

Since the days of Martyn but little effort has been made by the
Missionary Society to turn the tide of Christian philanthropy
towards this country; but I would say, spite of the
discouragements, Send your missionaries to this stronghold of
Mahomet; here plant your standard of redeeming love to the
wretched devotee of the impostor; to the sometime worshipper of
the sun hang out the banner of the Sun of Righteousness; kindle
in his bosom the flame of Divine truth, that the Holy Spirit, of
which his former god was the emblem, may enlighten and guide him
into the fold of Christ.

It is gratifying to find from a paper in the _Asiatic Register_,
the writer of which spent a few weeks at Shiraz, that the love
and work of this distinguished missionary, although he saw no
fruits from them, have in one instance proved that his labour
has not been in vain in the Lord. He relates that in that city
he met with an interesting character, Mahomed Rahim, who had
been educated for a moolla; a man of considerable learning, and
much attached to the English. He found him reading a volume of
_Cowper's Poems_, and was astonished at the precision with which
he expressed himself in English; this led to the subject of
religion, when he acknowledged himself to be a Christian, and
related the following circumstance.

In the year of the Hegira 1223 there came to this city an
Englishman, who taught the religion of Christ with a boldness
hitherto unparalleled in Persia, in the midst of much scorn and
ill-treatment from the moollas as well as the rabble. He was a
beardless youth, and evidently enfeebled by disease; he dwelt
among us for more than a year. I was then a decided enemy to
infidels, as the Christians are termed by the followers of
Mahomet, and I visited this teacher of the despised sect, for
the purpose of treating him with scorn, and exposing his
doctrines to contempt. Although I persevered in this conduct for
some time, I found that every interview not only increased my
respect for the individual, but diminished my confidence in the
faith in which I was educated. His extreme forbearance towards
the violence of his opponents, the calm and yet convincing
manner in which he exposed the fallacies and sophistries by
which he was assailed (for he spoke Persian excellently),
gradually inclined me to listen to his arguments, to inquire
dispassionately into the subject of them, and finally to read a
tract which he had written in reply to _A Defence of Islam_, by
our chief moollas. The result of my examination was a conviction
that the young disputant was right. Shame, or rather fear,
withheld me from this opinion; I even avoided the society of the
Christian teacher, though he remained in the city so long. Just
before he quitted Shiraz I could not refrain from paying him a
farewell visit. Our conversation, the memory of which will never
fade from the tablet of my mind, sealed my conversion. He gave
me a book; it has been my constant companion; the study of it
has formed my most delightful occupation; its contents have
often consoled me. Upon this he put into my hand a copy of the
New Testament in Persian; on one of the blank leaves was
written, 'There is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.
HENRY MARTYN.'

The memory of Henry Martyn was borne by Mussulmans to Northern Africa, and south to India again. The late Rev. Mr. Oakley, of St. Paul's, Onslow Square, London, when travelling south of Algiers, met Mohammedans who asked him if he were of the same tribe as Henry Martyn, the man of God whose controversy at Shiraz and books they knew. A Persian of gentle manners, who had a surprising knowledge of the _Mesnevi_, that inexhaustible fountain of Soofi philosophy, received a copy of Martyn's Persian New Testament. After fourteen years' study of it, in silence, he applied to the nearest Christian, an Armenian bishop, for baptism unto Christ. Fearing the consequences, the bishop sent on the catechumen to the Armenian priests at Calcutta, who, equally afraid that the news would reach the Persian authorities, handed him over to the Rev. E.C. Stuart, then the Church Missionary Society's secretary there, and a Persian scholar, now Bishop of Waiapu. Mr. Stuart took him as his guest, found that he delighted in instruction in the New Testament, and baptized him. Ultimately the convert went back to Persia as one who 'had gained a sincere faith in Christ from the simple reading of H. Martyn's Persian Testament.'

In 1842 the learned Bombay chaplain, George Percy Badger, visited Tokat on a mission from the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London to the Nestorian tribes of Koordistan. He was guided to Henry Martyn's first tomb by the Armenian priest who had performed the rites of Christian burial. While Mrs. Badger sought out and planted wild flowers around the stone, her husband, recalling the fervent zeal and ardent piety of the departed, 'lifted up a secret prayer that God in His mercy would raise up many of a like spirit to labour among the benighted Mohammedans of the East.'[93]

Adopting the report of their missionaries in 1830, the American Board at Boston sent out Dr. Henry J. van Lennep, who first visited Tokat fourteen years after them, and thirty-two years after Henry Martyn's death. The first object of his attention was the grave, which then he had great difficulty in discovering and identifying. It was this experience, and not any earlier facts, that must have led to the publication of these lines:

No stone marks the spot where these ashes are resting,
No tear has e'er hallowed thy cold, lonely grave,
But the wild warring winds whistle round thy bleak dwelling,
And the fierce wintry torrent sweeps o'er it with its wave.

In his _Travels in Little Known Parts of Asia Minor_,[94] Dr. van Lennep writes:

The Armenian burying-ground, where he was laid, is situated just
outside of the town, and hard by the wretched gipsy quarter
which forms its eastern extremity. It is a most barren and
desolate spot, overhung by lofty cliffs of clay slate. Its only
verdure, besides the rank weeds that spring up between the
thickly set graves, consists of two scraggy wild pear-trees
nearly dead for lack of moisture. The sexton of the church near
by could give no information, and I was left to search for it
alone. Beginning at the graves lying at the outer edge of the
ground nearest the road, I advanced towards the hill, examining
each in its turn, until just at the foot of the overhanging
cliffs I came upon a slab of coarse limestone, some forty inches
by twenty, bearing the following inscription:

Rev . Vir .
Gug[95] . Martino .
Sacer . Ac . Miss . Anglo .
Quem . In . Patr . Redi .
Dominus
Hic . Berisae . Ad . Sb . Voc .
Pium . D . Fidel . Q . Ser .
A.D. MDCCCXII.
Hunc . Lap . Consac .
C. I. R.
A.D. MDCCCXIII.

It was just ten years after this first visit that I was again in
Tokat, not on a transient visit, but with the purpose of making
that city my permanent abode. A little party of us soon repaired
to the hallowed spot. Guided by my recollections and a drawing
made at my previous visit, we were soon at the place; but in the
last few years it had undergone a remarkable change. Instead of
the slab of stone with its inscription, which we expected to
see, we only found a smooth surface of pebbly and sandy soil
overgrown with weeds, without vestige of stone or mound to
indicate the presence of a grave; but the identical surroundings
were there, too well remembered to be mistaken. Could it be
that, as happens in these lawless regions, the stone had been
removed by some ruthless hand and incorporated in the wall of a
neighbouring building? We could not accept that unpleasant
conclusion, and, calling the sexton, we directed him to dig
where we pointed. It was at a depth of two feet from the surface
that the stone came into view: the soil and rubbish accumulated
upon the grave were then removed, and we hoped the place would
hereafter need little attention. But, to our surprise, we found
it again, the ensuing spring, covered to the same depth as
before. The soil was washed upon it by the rains from the whole
mountain side, and we found that were a wall built for its
protection, the gipsy boys, who made this their playground,
would soon have it down.

Some time after this, a correspondence took place with friends
in London, which resulted in a grant being made by the late Hon.
East India Company's Board of Directors, for the purpose of
erecting a more suitable monument to the memory of Henry Martyn,
to be placed with his remains in the Mission Burying-ground. The
monument was cut out of native marble, and made by native
workmen at Tokat. The remains were removed under the inspection
of the missionary physician, and though it was difficult
positively to identify them, there can be no doubt that what was
found once formed a portion of the earthly tenement of the
devoted and lamented missionary. There were no remains of a
coffin; Orientals never use them, and he was doubtless laid in
immediate contact with the soil, literally 'dust to dust.' The
monument under which we laid these remains was the first grave
in our little cemetery, and well might it be said that it
became sacred ground. The obelisk has four faces, on each of
which the name, encircled with a wreath, is cut, severally in
English, Armenian, Persian, and Turkish. The four sides of the
base contain the following inscription in the same languages:

REV. HENRY MARTYN, M.A.

CHAPLAIN OF THE HON. EAST INDIA COMPANY,
BORN AT TRURO, ENGLAND, FEBRUARY 18, 1781,
DIED AT TOKAT, OCTOBER 16, 1812.

HE LABOURED FOR MANY YEARS IN THE EAST, STRIVING TO
BENEFIT MANKIND BOTH IN THIS WORLD AND THAT TO COME.
HE TRANSLATED THE HOLY SCRIPTURES INTO HINDOSTANEE
AND PERSIAN,
AND PREACHED THE GOD AND SAVIOUR OF WHOM THEY TESTIFY.
HE WILL LONG BE REMEMBERED IN THE EAST, WHERE HE WAS
KNOWN AS A MAN OF GOD.

The grave now lies in a spot every way adapted to foster the
holy memories which it recalls. It stands upon a broad and high
terrace, overlooking the whole city for whose salvation we
cannot doubt that he offered some of the last petitions 'of the
righteous man, which avail much.' It is a solitude, immediately
surrounded by the thick foliage of fruit trees, among which tall
walnuts are conspicuous. We ourselves planted by its side the
only weeping willows which exist in the whole region. The place
is visited by many, who read the concise inscription and further
inquire into the good man's history. It has always been a
favourite place of resort of our students and native Christians,
and they have many a time sat under its shade and expounded to
wondering strangers the very doctrines to propagate which that
model of a missionary had sacrificed his life.

Tokat is now for ever memorable as the centre which links the names of Basiliscus, the martyr, Basil the Great, John Chrysostom, and Henry Martyn. The cloud-crested fortress points almost straight up from the Jeshil-Irmak river, the ancient Iris, which, rising in the Anti-Taurus range of Pontus, finds its way to the Black Sea with a breadth and volume of water second only to the Halys. Still, as of old, the town crowds about the foot of the two spiral crags and straggles out with towered church, mosque and minaret, into the valley. The ruins of the embattled walls crowning every pinnacle of the insulated rocks of which they seem to form a part, tell of the days when Greek and Roman passed along the 'royal road' from Amisos or Samsoon on the Euxine to Sebaste, Caesareia, and Central Asia; and when the Saracens beat off the Emperor Michael (860) from what was then called Daximon.[96] The time is coming when there shall once more be here a highway of civilisation after the barren centuries of the Moslem.

Tokat represents Komana Pontica, six miles off, the oracle and emporium of the royal road, described by Strabo as a little Corinth for vice and traffic. Another step, and the Apostle Paul himself might have visited it from Galatia. In 312, in the persecution under Maximin, Basiliscus, the bishop of Komana, was martyred, being shod with red-hot iron shoes, beheaded, and thrown into the Iris. The _Acta_ picture the saint as led on foot by soldiers along the road without food for four days, till he reached Komana; 'and the road was much the same as the modern way, Tokat to Amaseia,' along which Henry Martyn was violently hurried by his Tartar. In the martyrium, built a few miles out of Komana, in memory of Basiliscus, Chrysostom found rest in death, and a grave.

Basilius, the bishop of Caesareia, belonged to the neighbouring province of Cappadocia, but his missionary influence, and that of his bishop brother, Gregory Nyssen, and his sister, Macrina, spread all over Pontus, while Gregory Nazianzen was his fellow-student at Athens, and his admiring friend, as Julian also, the future Emperor, was for a time. Like Martyn, Basil owed to his sister his conversion, his call to the ministry, and his self-sacrifice all through life. It was on the banks of the Iris above Tokat that, secluded for five years, the great Father laid the foundation of the monastic communities of the Greek Church, and learned to be the future defender of orthodoxy against the Arians, and of the unity of the Oriental Church.

But it is the exile and death of John Chrysostom, just fourteen centuries before, that form the most touching parallel to the sufferings of Henry Martyn. Never has there been a greater missionary bishop than the 'golden-mouthed' preacher of Antioch and Constantinople. The victim first of a cabal of bishops, and then of the Empress Eudoxia, whose vices and sacrilege he rebuked, he was driven from Constantinople to the scorching plains of Cappadocia in the midsummer heat. His guard drove on the venerable man day and night, giving him no rest. When a halt was made, it was always in some filthy village where good water was not. Fever and ague were provoked, but still he was forced on to Basil's city of Caesareia, to find Basil's successor his bitter enemy. Taking a physician with him he reached his destination at Kokussos, where the Empress had hoped that the barbarians would make an end of him. As it seemed likely to prove his Tabreez, he was once more driven forth on foot, under two guards selected for their brutality. It took him three months to reach Komana--one long, slow martyrdom to the fever-stricken old man. 'It was evident that Chrysostom's strength was entirely worn out,' writes Canon Venables, in words which exactly describe the experience of the young Henry Martyn. 'But his pitiless guard hurried him through the town "as if its streets were no more than a bridge," without a moment's halt.' Five miles farther on they halted at the chapel of the martyr Basiliscus, of whom Chrysostom dreamed that he saw him and heard him say: 'Be of good cheer; on the morrow we shall be together.' Canon Venables continues, unconsciously, the parallel with the experience of the nineteenth-century saint of the Evangel:

In the morning Chrysostom earnestly begged for a brief respite,
but in vain. He was hurried off, but scarcely had he gone three
or four miles when a violent attack of fever compelled them to
retrace their steps.

On reaching the martyrium, Chrysostom, led within, stripped on his soiled garments, clothed himself in white baptismal vestments, joined in the communion of the body and blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, offered his last prayer 'for present needs,' uttered his accustomed doxology: 'Glory be to God for all things,' and, having said 'Amen,' breathed his last on September 14, 407, in his sixtieth year. His body was laid beside that of Basiliscus. A generation after, the children of the Empress and Emperor who had thus slaughtered the saint brought back his body and gave it imperial sepulture in Constantinople, while they publicly asked Heaven to forgive the wrong of the past.

From Basiliscus, Basil, and Chrysostom to Henry Martyn, the fourteen centuries tell of the corruption of the Church of Christ in the East, and the rise upon its ruins of Mohammedanism, which covered the northern half of Africa, and Spain, and reached as far as Tours and Vienna in Europe. It is to the glory of Henry Martyn that he was the first missionary of the Reformed Church of the West to the Mohammedans, giving those of India and Central Asia the Gospel and the Psalms in two of their own vernaculars, and dying for them before he could complete his work at the Arabic Bible.

We shall see whom his example inspired to follow him. His death became a summons, first to his own evangelical circle in England and India, and then to the whole Church of Christ, to follow in the path that he marked out alike by his toiling and his writing.

Sergius, the Armenian, must at once have pursued the journey from Tokat to Constantinople, which is distant from Tabreez 1,542 miles, and not 1,300 as roundly estimated by Henry Martyn. He presented the letters of his master to Mr. Isaac Morier, in the Sultan's capital, father of Sir Gore Ouseley's secretary and successor. On February 12, 1813, Charles Simeon wrote thus to Mr. Thomason in Calcutta:

The day before yesterday a letter arrived from Mr. Isaac Morier,
of Constantinople, announcing that on October 16 (or
thereabouts) our beloved brother entered into the realms of
glory, and rested for ever in the bosom of his God.... But what
an event it is! How calamitous to his friends, to India, and to
the world! Methinks I hear God say: 'Be still and know that I am
God.' ... I had been forming plans in my mind with a view to the
restoration of his health in England, and should now have been
able to carry into execution whatever might have been judged
expedient; but I am denied the joy of ministering to him!

Again on April 2:

We are making collections for Mr. Martyn's brother's family, who
in him have lost their main support. We have got about 400_l._,
and Mr. Thornton has sent you a paper for the purpose of getting
them some aid in India.

The news reached Lydia Grenfell on February 14, 1813. She was then for a fortnight at Marazion, where every spot recalled the past. She thus communed with herself and God in her _Diary_:

Marazion: February 20, 1813.

I am fearful to retrace the last week on two accounts, lest the
infirmity of nature prevail, and I give way to sorrow,--and
lest, in recollecting the wondrous kindness and love of God my
Saviour, I increase my pride and not my gratitude. Oh, shall I
then remain silent? Shall Thy mercies be forgotten? Teach me, O
Lord, to write and speak for Thy glory, and to my own deeper
humiliation. Heard on the 14th of the removal of my most tender,
faithful, and beloved friend to the joys of heaven. Oh, I could
not wish his absence from them prolonged. What I only wished
was, and now I am reconciled to that too,--I wished to have been
honoured of God so far as to have been near him, or that some
friend had been.[97] Lord, if this was wrong, forgive me. I will
endeavour, yea, I am enabled to say of this too, 'Thy will be
done.' Great has been the peace and tranquillity of my soul,
such nearness to God, such a hold of Christ, such hope in the
promises, such assurance of bliss and immortality, as I cannot
express, and may have to forget. Oh, that I may never
lose,--rather would I lose everything I most prize, every
earthly friend, every earthly enjoyment, than this. Oh, the fear
of doing so, or of the abatement of spiritual perceptions and
affections, is the thing I most dread, and makes me long to die.
It is not for the sake of rejoining that blessed spirit of my
friend, though I have, and do, feel that too,--but to be again
shut out from Thy possession is what I fear.

_February 28._--A silent Sabbath, at least to me,--to my ears, I
should say, for I trust God speaks to my heart. 'Comfort ye,
comfort ye, My people,' enables me to take comfort. I feel a
submission to the will of God which is more blessed than when I
had my own in the ministry of the Word,--yet this is a time
which calls for prayer. Lord, pour out the spirit of prayer on
me and many, and grant us grace to ask, fervently yet
resignedly, the restoration of Thy preached gospel. Suddenly are
we deprived of it,--may it be as quickly restored. Very weak in
health, so powerless this morning,--I could not but think my
earthly bed was preparing for me too, and that my soul would
soon return to God, but I am better, and willing to stay my
appointed time. True, to perform my work in a little time might
be what I should rejoice in, but I am willing to live, so I may
have the presence of God with me, and be engaged in His service.
I have a pleasure in supposing it possible the blessed spirit of
my friend may be, on some occasions, sent to protect, to
console, and counsel me,--but this is a weakness, and perhaps
should not be indulged. I felt this afternoon as if he was
present, as I sat alone in the garden,--the thought only
disposed me to solemnity and pensiveness of mind. I am afraid of
my dependence on the creature, whether embodied or not, and I
will rather trust to the sure support of God's Word.

_March 2._--Some sorrowful thoughts will enter my mind
respecting my late dear friend, and call forth some sighs and
tears from my heart,--yet is that heart resigned to the will of
God, and confident of His having done all things well for His
beloved servant. Oh, how shall I, with wonder and praise, listen
in eternity to the relation of his last days! The excess of
affection now, and the unwillingness I feel that he should have
suffered, make it amongst my mercies that a veil is drawn over
that period of his life. It is mercy all, and God is good to me
in everything. I see His hand, I love and I adore. I submit and
resign myself to His blessed disposal and to all His
dispensations. I have been thinking how necessary for me it was
that we are thus separated; for during his life I felt such a
desire to please and to be worthy of the regard he entertained
for me, that it was my bane, and caused me to forget God as the
first object I was to think of and please. I accept the
punishment sent for this offence, may it prove an effectual cure
of this evil in my heart!

_March 8._--During the last few days I have experienced much of
the Divine support and consolation of the Gospel. It has been a
time of conflict, not inward, blessed be the name of the Lord. I
have enjoyed a constant, uninterrupted peace, a peace past an
understanding, unless experienced. I never was more sensible of,
or rejoiced more in the presence of God, and my heart rises to
my Maker with delight and joy, as easily as I breathe. God, 'as
soon as sought, is found,' through Jesus Christ,--but I have
been put into the hands of a bitter enemy, and that enemy....
She has left me, and I pray that every uneasy feeling excited in
my breast by her unkind and injurious treatment may depart with
her. Oh, how I rejoice that no storms can molest the dead who
die in the Lord,--they rest from their labours of every kind.
Since the account reached me of the departure of my dear friend
to be with Christ, which is far better than to be here,--every
evil I suffer, or fear, is blessed in its purpose, from knowing
he can never feel the same; and all I enjoy or behold that is
delightful, is the more enjoyed from thinking 'he has all this,
and more, in perfection, and without interruption.' May I
accomplish my work of suffering, or ending, or labouring, and
then enter into rest.

_March 13._--Nature has its turn in my feelings. To-day I have
been given to feel more of sorrow for the removal of my beloved
friend, and, without desiring it to be otherwise, to mourn my
own loss. The recollection of his unmerited kindness softens my
heart, and I can hardly forbear indulging a tenderness which may
weaken but cannot strengthen my mind. O Lord, I beseech Thee
preserve me from whatever may injure my soul and unfit me for
Thy service. I have the hope of heaven too, and that is enough.
In heaven we shall meet and unite for ever in the work of
praise. Life, with its trials and cares, will be but short. May
I only desire to live to Thee, my God, and finish the work Thou
hast given me to do. Lord, make me faithful, self-denying, and
submissive to Thy will.

_April 3._--My thoughts revert to the possible circumstances of
my late dear friend's sufferings and death, and I am sunk low by
doing so. It was the last step he had to travel below, and one
necessary to be taken, in order to reach the heights of glory.
There let me view him triumphing with his Saviour, and through
His meritorious sufferings and death made more than conqueror
over all his enemies. I must think more of his glorious Lord,
and less of the servant, either as suffering and labouring or
glorified and resting. Lord, be graciously present, and in the
contemplation of Thy perfections, and the review of Thy mercies,
let me forget everything beside.

_April 21._--A letter from Tabreez, dated August 28, reached me.
O Thou who readest my heart, direct and sanctify every feeling.
May the anguish of my soul be moderated, and let me endeavour to
exercise faith in Thy Divine goodness, mercy, and power, and to
believe it was well with him in all respects.

_April 24._--I am tormented with fears that even in eternity I
shall never be capable of enjoying the same happiness my
departed friend does, and it seems as if no other would satisfy
me. O Lord Jesus, weary and heavy laden I come to Thee; let me
behold the light of Thy countenance, and praise Thee, and lose
in the contemplation of Thy glories, and in the sense of Thy
love to my soul,--let me lose the remembrance of every other
excellence. When the sun shines the light of the stars is
eclipsed; thus may it be with me!--Unless the genius which shone
in his character make me admire and love God more, let me turn
from viewing them. Oh, teach me to love Thy saints, whether
living or dead, and for Thy sake and Thyself above them all. I
have never felt I was not resigned to the will of God in our
separation on earth, but my anxious mind dwells on another,
which I cannot bear to think possible.

_June 3._--For several days my mind has been occupied with
recollections that weaken its hold of spiritual things. I think
more of a departed saint than of the King of Saints. It is
strange that now I should be more in danger of loving too well a
creature passed into the skies than when he lived on earth. But
so it is,--continually my thoughts revert to him. I pray God
this may not be a snare unto me to divide me from Himself. Let
me behold Jesus.

_June 13._--Passed a very blessed Sabbath. My soul
quickened,--Oh, let it live, and it shall praise Thee! A letter
from my dearest Emma containing wholesome, though at first
unwelcome, counsel, has been of singular use to me. The snare is
seen, if not broken. Yes, I have lost my hold of everything that
used, and ought, to support me by allowing, without restraint,
the remembrance of my late dear friend to fill my mind. My
almost constant thoughts were of him, and pride at the
preference he showed me was fed, as well as affection. Now I
have a painful, difficult part to act. A sacrifice I must offer
of what has become so much my happiness as to interfere with my
enjoyment of God. I must fly from the recollection of an earthly
object, loved too well, viewed too much. Let me follow his
faith, and consider the end of his conversation,--Jesus Christ,
the same for ever. I have had the greatest peace to-day in only
trying to resolve on this,--how merciful is God!

_1814, January 28._--Found great sweetness yesterday and to-day
in reading and sweet prayer in the garden; was sensibly
refreshed in the exercise, and had a taste that the Lord was
gracious. This evening my heart is sad, not from the withdrawing
of those consolations, or darkness of soul, as is often the
case, but from having the circumstances of my revered friend's
death brought to my recollection. I strive not to dwell on them,
for oh, what a scope do they give to my busy fancy! I would fly
from this subject as too high for me, and take refuge in this:
the Lord did not forsake His servant, and precious was his death
in His sight. Nature is weak, but faith can strengthen me.

_February 12._--A twelvemonth, this day, since I heard of the
death of my dear friend. My thoughts revert to this event, but
more to the mercies of God to me at that season.

_October 16._--My thoughts engaged often to-day by the event of
this day in 1812. Twice has the earth performed its annual round
since the honoured servant of God received the welcome mandate
to cease from his labours, and join those who 'see His face' and
'serve Him,' unencumbered with flesh and blood. He no longer
measures time by days and years, and there is no tedious six
days between Sabbath and Sabbath, as it is here. 'How blessed
are those who die in the Lord.' This expresses my feelings most
at the remembrance of this departed saint. May I abide in
Christ, and be with Him and His saints for ever. O blessed hope
of everlasting life,--I will cherish it, exult in it, and may I
pursue till I attain it.

It was April 18, 1813, when Corrie and Thomason in India learned what they had always feared since the dearest of all friends to them had passed through Calcutta on his way to Arabia. Corrie was at Agra, and he wrote to his brother-in-law, Mr. C. Shaw, in reply to a letter 'containing the affecting intelligence of Martyn's death, to us afflictive, to him happy beyond expression. I could find nothing but lamentations to express--lamentations for us, not for him. He was meet for "the inheritance of the saints in light." My master is taken from me; oh, for a double portion of his spirit! The work of printing and distributing the Scriptures will henceforth go on more slowly.' Again, to Simeon: 'Could he look from heaven and see the Abdool Massee'h, with the translated New Testament in his hand, preaching to the listening throng, ... it would add fresh delight to his holy soul.' Thomason, at once his disciple and his friend, wrote: 'He was in our hearts; we honoured him; we loved him; we thanked God for him; we prayed for his longer continuance amongst us; we rejoiced in the good he was doing. We are sadly bereaved. Where such fervent piety, and extensive knowledge, and vigorous understanding, and classical taste, and unwearied application were all united, what might not have been expected?' When, soon after, Thomason, as chaplain, accompanied the Governor-General, Lord Moira, through North India, and arrived at Cawnpore, he had eyes and thoughts only for his friend. 'In these sandy plains I have been tracing again and again the days of Martyn. Close by me is the house that dear minister occupied, leading to which is the gloomy line of aloes spoken of by Mrs. Sherwood.... Oh, for Martyn's humility and love!... His standard of every duty was the highest, and his feelings of joy, sorrow, love, most intense; whilst his conversation was always in heaven, the savour of his holy disposition was as ointment poured forth.... Woe unto us if we do not pray more, live more above the world and deny ourselves more, and love Christ more!'

John Sargent, Rector of Lavington, the earliest of Henry Martyn's intimate friends, at once undertook to write a memoir of his life, for which Simeon charged himself with collecting 'all possible materials from India and Persia.' Bishop Corrie accordingly addressed Sargent thus:

Agra: November 1, 1813.

It will be of use for you to know that when he left Cawnpore in
1810 to seek change of air I was with him, and persuaded him to
leave in my hands a number of memorandums he was about to
destroy. They were sealed up, but on his death, being opened,
they proved to be journals of the exercises of his mind from
January 1803 to 1807 inclusive. They seem to me no less worthy
of publication than the journal of Mr. Brainerd, if more books
of that kind should be judged necessary. Since the beginning of
1807 Mr. Martyn favoured me with almost a weekly letter, in
which his various employments and engagements for the
furtherance of the Gospel in this country are detailed, with
occasional very interesting remarks. This correspondence ceased
on my being ordered by our Commander-in-chief to assist Mr.
Martyn in the duties of the station of Cawnpore, when I took up
my abode with him from June till his departure, October 1. Other
letters passed between us after that time, and it is my
intention to send you copies of all the above correspondence,
together with his private memorandums. The latter, with copies
of Martyn's letters from February to July 1807, were sent off
this day to Mr. Thomason in Calcutta, to be forwarded to England
by the first opportunity, and the copies of the remaining
letters shall follow as soon as may be. Of course I have omitted
to copy what seems purely personal: yet much remains which you
will perhaps judge unnecessary for publication, and will
exercise your own judgment on that head. All the extracts seem
to me, however, to cast light on the progress of missionary work
in this land, and may perhaps be thought interesting to those
who take a concern in Indian affairs. These extracts give so
full a view of Mr. Martyn's character that nothing remains for
me to add. Only I may say a more perfect character I never met
with, nor expect to see again on earth. During the four years we
were fellow-labourers in this country, I had no less than six
opportunities of enjoying his company; the last time for four
months together, and under the same roof all the time; and each
opportunity only increased my love and veneration for him.

I conclude the above intelligence will plead my excuse for
writing to you without previous introduction, and I was anxious
it should reach you through the nearest channel. Your brother in
Calcutta has told me several times of your welfare, and during
beloved Martyn's life I used to hear of you sometimes. Your
person, whilst a student at King's College, was well known to
me, and your character admired, though I had not steadiness of
principle sufficient at that time to imitate you, and
consequently had no pretensions to an acquaintance with you,
though I often greatly desired it. To that 'Father in Israel,'
Mr. Simeon, I owe all my comfort on earth and all my hopes
respecting eternity: for through his instrumentality the seeds
of grace, I trust, were, during my residence at Cambridge,
especially during the latter part of my residence, implanted in
my heart, and have influenced, though alas! unsteadily, my after
days.

Lydia Grenfell was of course consulted as the work made progress, but none of her letters to Martyn have seen the light.

_1815, December 26._--Wrote this day to Mr. Simeon. I have
reason to search into my heart and watch the risings of pride
there, both respecting the notice of this blessed saint, and the
avowal to be expected of my being the object of so much regard
from another still more eminent in the Church of Christ. I have
ever stood amazed at this, and now that in the providence of God
it seems certain that my being so favoured is likely to be made
known, vanity besets me. Oh, how poor a creature am I! Lord, I
pray, let me be enabled to trace some evidence of Thine eternal
love to me, and let this greater wonder call off my thoughts
from every other distinction. But how do I learn that in the
whole of this notice my thoughts have not indeed been Thine, O
Lord, nor my ways Thy ways? How much above all I could have
conceived of have been the designs of God! I sought concealment,
and lo! all is made known to many, and much will be even known
to the world. It is strange for me to credit this, and strange
that, with my natural reserve and the peculiar reasons that
exist for my wishing to have this buried in silence, I am
nevertheless composed about it. But, Lord, I would resign
myself, and all things that concern me, to Thy sovereign will
and pleasure. Preserve me blameless to Thine eternal kingdom,
and grant me an everlasting union with thy servant above.

_1816, January 28._--I feel an increased thankfulness that God
has called me to live free from the many cares which fall on all
in the married state, and for the peculiarly favourable
circumstances He has placed me in here. The privilege of
watching over my mother in the decline of life, the charge of a
sweet child, the occupation of the schools, and a portion of
this world's goods for the use of the poor,--all, all call for
more thankfulness and diligence. Lord, help me to abound in
both, and with and above all I have peace and hope in God
through Jesus Christ, in a measure--though unbelief often robs
my soul of both. Oh, let me seek the grace of steadfast faith,
and I have all I want or desire.

_April 21._--Thought with delight of my loved friends, Mrs.
Hoare and H.M., both before the Throne, led by the Lamb to
living fountains of waters, and all tears wiped away from their
eyes. Oh, I long to be there; yet I could willingly forego the
joys of heaven if I might, by suffering or labours here, glorify
my Lord and Saviour.

_June 30._--Often have I thought, when desirous of pursuing a
more consistent deportment, and of introducing spiritual
subjects: 'How can I appear so different before those I have
been so trifling and merely worldly in all my intercourse with?'
The death of my esteemed and beloved brother in Christ, H.M., I
thought would have been the period for my maintaining that
serious watchfulness so essential to my enjoyment of God; but
no, I have been worse since, I think, as a judgment for failing
in my keeping my resolution.

In 1817 Lydia Grenfell's _Diary_ records the visits of such men as Mr. Fenn, 'who came to preach in the great cause of the Church Missionary Society,' and of Mr. Bickersteth, who at Penzance 'stated what he had met with in Africa.' The author of many immortal hymns, Francis Thomas Lyte, 'opened his ministry' of two years in Marazion at this time, to her joy and spiritual growth. She notes on August 31, 1817, that his hymn 'Penitence' was sung for the first time.

Marazion: March 6, 1819.

Received, a few days since, Mr. Sargent's Memoir, and reading
only a few pages has convinced me that, without a greater
resemblance in the spirit to our friend, I never can partake of
that blessedness now enjoyed by the happy subject of it in the
presence of his Saviour. It is chiefly in humility, meekness,
and love I see the sad, the total difference. This may be
traced to a departure from the fountain of grace, Christ Jesus,
to whom, oh, may I return, and I shall be replenished.

_October 14._--Indulged a wandering imagination, and am sad in
consequence. This season I ought to deem a sacred one. Oh, that,
in my remembrance of Thy blessed ... and servant, I could
entirely forget what feeds my vanity. Lord, help me to check all
earthly sorrow at the recollection of his many sorrows, for were
they not the appointed means of fitting him for his present
felicity, and of manifesting Thy grace, by which Thou art
glorified? I would make this season one of serious preparation
for my own departure, and what does that preparation consist
in?--faith in Jesus. Oh, strengthen it in me, and by following
Thy blessed saint in all virtuous and godly living I may come to
those eternal joys prepared for those that love Thee.

_1820, June 25._--Oh, what a heaven for a creature, who has no
strength, or wisdom, or righteousness, like myself, to be fixed
in, beholding the glories of Jehovah manifested in Him who is my
Saviour and my Lord. Gladly would I part from this dull clod of
earth and come to Thee, and reach the pure pleasures of a
spiritual state. There, there dwells the blessed Martyn, who
bows before the throne, of a glorious company of saints, washed
with him, and clothed in spotless robes. Oh, (that) I may be
brought to them.

_December 5._--Thought of the holy martyr, so humble, so
self-denying, so devoted, and of his early-accomplished prayer
for the heavenly country, where he dwells perfect in purity and
love. Oh, to be a follower of him as he followed Christ, and to
walk in the same paths, influenced by the same holy, humble,
heavenly principles, upheld by the same arm of omnipotent grace,
till I too reach the rest above.

_1821, January 23._--Elevated rather than refreshed and humbled
in worship to-day. Imagination has been too active and
unrestrained. The remembrance of past events, in which that
blessed saint now with God, H.M. (? figured), has been filling
my mind. This should not be. This is not communion with him, now
a glorified spirit, but merely the indulgence of a vain, sinful
imagination. I would turn from all, from the most holy
creatures, to the Holy One, and the just; spiritual, and moral,
yea, Divine glory and beauty I may behold in Him, who is the
chief among ten thousand, and altogether lovely.

_October 18._--I have now survived my beloved friend eight
years. Eight years have been given me to be prepared for that
world of blessedness he has so long entered upon. Alas! I seem
less so now than at any period.

_1822, October 16._--The remembrance of the event of the day has
been rendered useless by my absence from home a great part of
it. It should be the occasion for renewed self-dedication, of
more earnest prayer, and of humiliation; for the recollection of
being the cause of increased sufferings to Thy saint, O Lord, is
cause for constant humiliation. I would realise death, and look
to eternity, and to that glorious Saviour, for whom the blessed
subject of my thoughts lived only to serve and honour. Oh, never
more shall I have intercourse with the beloved friend now with
Christ, but by faith in Christ. Lord, help me to use the
recollection of our earthly regard to promote this end.

_October 19._--My birthday (forty-seventh) follows that of the
anniversary of the death of Martyn.

_December 31._--Read dear Martyn's sermon on the Christian's
walk with greater enjoyment and unction than has been vouchsafed
unto me for a long season. The holy simplicity of the
directions, and persuasive motives to walk in, as well as
receive, Christ, had influence in my heart.

_1823, January 11._--Placed in my room yesterday the print of
dear M. Felt affected greatly in doing so, and my tears, which
seldom flow in the presence of anyone, I could not restrain
before the person who was fixing it.[98] With the Saviour now,
and the Saviour, doubtless, was with him in his greatest agony,
even the agony of death--this thought will be the more familiar
to me by viewing the representation of Christ's Crucifixion, now
placed over the picture of His servant. I trust, by a prudent
and not too frequent sight of both, I may derive some advantage
from possessing what is so affecting and so admonitory to me,
who am declining in religious fervour and spirituality. Thus may
I use both, not to exercise feelings, but faith. I cannot behold
the resemblance of M. but I am reminded that God wrought
powerfully on his soul, meeting him for a state of purity, and
love, and spiritual enjoyment, and that he has entered upon it.
His faithfulness, and diligence, and self-denial, and
devotedness; his love to God, and love for souls; his meekness,
and patience, and faith, should stimulate me to earnestness in
prayer for a portion of that grace, through which alone he
attained them, and was what he was.

_January 19._--Read dear Martyn's sermon on 'Tribulation the Way
to Heaven,' with, I trust, a blessing attending it.

_1825, October 16._--The anniversary of dear H.M. gaining the
haven of rest after his labours. Oh, how little do I labour to
enter into that rest he enjoyed upon earth.

_1826, April 2._--God, the ever gracious and merciful God, Thee
would I bless and everlastingly praise for granting me the
favour of hearing 'the joyful sound' of His rich love, and
abounding grace by Jesus Christ, this day, and by a messenger
unexpected, and beloved as a friend and brother. The text was
that I once heard preached from by the blessed Martyn, whose
spirit I pined to join in offering praises to God after sermon:
'Now then we are ambassadors for Christ.'

_June 18._--My friends gone to heaven seem to reproach me, that
I aim not to follow them, as they followed Christ. The beloved
Martyn, the seraphic Louisa Hoare, and my dear[99] Georgina's
spirits are employed in perpetually beholding that God whom I
neglect, and remain unconcerned when I do not delight in or
serve (Him). Oh, let me be joined to them in the sweet work of
adoration and praise to Him who hath loved us, to Jesus, our one
Lord and Saviour. Amen.

So ends the _Diary_ of Lydia Grenfell, the eight last years of her life afflicted by cancerous disease, and one year by a clouded mind.[100] To the manuscript 'E. H,'--that is, her sister, Emma Hitchins--added these words: 'This prayer was answered September 21, 1829;

And now they range the heavenly plains,
And sing in sweet, heart-melting strains.'

The motto on her memorial stone in the churchyard of Breage, where she lies near another holy woman, Margaret Godolphin, first wife of Queen Anne's prime minister, is 'For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee.'

FOOTNOTES:

[88] We must not forget the boyish 'Epitaph on Henry Martyn,' written by Thomas Babington Macaulay in his thirteenth year (_Life_, by his nephew, vol. i. p. 38):

'Here Martyn lies. In manhood's early bloom
The Christian hero finds a Pagan tomb.
Religion sorrowing o'er her favourite son
Points to the glorious trophies that he won,
Eternal trophies! not with carnage red;
Not stained with tears by hapless captives shed,
But trophies of the Cross. For that dear Name,
Through every form of danger, death, and shame,
Onward he journeyed to a happier shore,
Where danger, death, and shame assault no more.'

These lines reflect the impression made on Charles Grant and the other Clapham friends by Henry Martyn's death at a time when they used his career as an argument for Great Britain doing its duty to India during the discussions in Parliament on the East India Company's Charter of 1813.

[89] _Narrative of a Residence in Koordistan, and an Account of a Visit to Sherauz and Persepolis_, by the late Claudius James Rich, Esq., edited (with memoir) by his widow, two vols., London, 1836.

[90] See p. 528 for the earlier, and p. 530 for the later inscription.

[91] _Missionary Researches in Armenia_, London, 1834.

[92] It is a custom in the East to accompany travellers out of the city to bid them God speed, with the 'khoda hafiz shuma,' 'may God take you into His holy keeping.' If an Armenian, he is accompanied by the priest, who prays over him and for him with much fervour.

[93] _The Nestorians and their Rituals in 1842-1844_, 2 vols. London: Joseph Masters, 1852.

[94] New York, 1870, 2 vols. 12mo. Also published by John Murray, London, 1870.

[95] Mr. Rich, British Resident at Baghdad, who had laid this monumental slab, was evidently ignorant of Martyn's Christian name.

[96] Professor W.M. Ramsay's _Historical Geography of Asia Minor_, 1890.

[97] 'Paucioribus lacrymis compositus es.'--Tac. quoted on this occasion by Sargent, _Memoir of Martyn_, p. 493.

[98] Her niece writes of her when she received the news of Henry Martyn's death: 'The circumstances of his affecting death, and my aunt's _intense_ sorrow, produced an ineffaceable remembrance on my own mind. I can never forget the "upper chamber" in which she took refuge from daily cares and interruptions--its view of lovely Mount's Bay across fruit-trees and whispering white cœlibes--its perfect neatness, though with few ornaments. On the principal wall hung a large print of the Crucifixion of our Lord, usually shaded by a curtain, and at its foot (where he would have chosen to be) a portrait of Henry Martyn.'--_The Church Quarterly Review_ for October 1881.

[99] An authoress, and member of the Gurney family, who died in April, 1816.

[100] _Her Title of Honour_, by Holme Lee, in which an attempt is made to tell the story of Lydia Grenfell's life under a fictitious name, is unworthy of the subject and of the writer.