Chapter V: Calcutta and Serampore, 1806 (2)

Though I dare not say that I am under no bias, yet from every
view of the subject I have been able to take, after balancing
the advantages and disadvantages that may ensue to the cause in
which I am engaged, always in prayer for God's direction, my
reason is fully convinced of the expediency, I had almost said
the necessity, of having you with me. It is possible that my
reason may still be obscured by passion; let it suffice,
however, to say that now with a safe conscience and the
enjoyment of the Divine presence, I calmly and deliberately make
the proposal to you--and blessed be God if it be not His will to
permit it; still this step is not advancing beyond the limits of
duty, because there is a variety of ways by which God can
prevent it, without suffering any dishonour to His cause. If He
shall forbid it, I think that, by His grace, I shall even then
be contented and rejoice in the pleasure of corresponding with
you. Your letter, dated December 1805, was the first I received
(your former having been taken in the Bell Packet), and I found
it so animating that I could not but reflect on the blessedness
of having so dear a counsellor always near me. I can truly say,
and God is my witness, that my principal desire in this affair
is that you may promote the kingdom of God in my own heart, and
be the means of extending it to the heathen. My own earthly
comfort and happiness are not worth a moment's notice. I would
not, my dearest Lydia, influence you by any artifices or false
representations. I can only say that if you have a desire of
being instrumental in establishing the blessed Redeemer's
kingdom among these poor people, and will condescend to do it by
supporting the spirits and animating the zeal of a weak
messenger of the Lord, who is apt to grow very dispirited and
languid, 'Come, and the Lord be with you!' It can be nothing but
a sacrifice on your part, to leave your valuable friends to come
to one who is utterly unworthy of you or any other of God's
precious gifts: but you will have your reward, and I ask it not
of you or of God for the sake of my own happiness, but only on
account of the Gospel. If it be not calculated to promote it,
may God in His mercy withhold it. For the satisfaction of your
friends, I should say that you will meet with no hardships. The
voyage is very agreeable, and with the people and country of
India I think you will be much pleased. The climate is very
fine--the so much dreaded heat is really nothing to those who
will employ their minds in useful pursuits. Idleness will make
people complain of everything. The natives are the most harmless
and timid creatures I ever met with. The whole country is the
land of plenty and peace. Were I a missionary among the
Esquimaux or Boschemen, I should never dream of introducing a
female into such a scene of danger or hardship, especially one
whose happiness is dearer to me than my own: but here there is
universal tranquillity, though the multitudes are so great that
a missionary needs not go three miles from his house without
having a congregation of many thousands. You would not be left
in solitude if I were to make any distant excursion, because no
chaplain is stationed where there is not a large English
Society. My salary is abundantly sufficient for the support of a
married man, the house and number of people kept by each
Company's servant being such as to need no increase for a
family establishment. As I must make the supposition of your
coming, though it may be perhaps a premature liberty, I should
give you some directions. This letter will reach you about the
latter end of the year; it would be very desirable if you could
be ready for the February fleet, because the voyage will be
performed in far less time than at any other season. George will
find out the best ship--one in which there is a lady of high
rank in the service would be preferable. You are to be
considered as coming as a visitor to Mr. Brown, who will write
to you or to Colonel Sandys, who is best qualified to give you
directions about the voyage. Should I be up the country on your
arrival in Bengal, Mr. Brown will be at hand to receive you, and
you will find yourself immediately at home. As it will highly
expedite some of the plans which we have in agitation that you
should know the language as soon as possible, take Gilchrist's
_Indian Stranger's Guide_, and occasionally on the voyage learn
some of the words.

If I had room I might enlarge on much that would be interesting
to you. In my conversations with Marshman, the Baptist
missionary, our hearts sometimes expand with delight and joy at
the prospect of seeing all these nations of the East receive the
doctrine of the Cross. He is a happy labourer; and I only wait,
I trust, to know the language to open my mouth boldly and make
known the mystery of the Gospel. My romantic notions are for the
first time almost realised; for in addition to the beauties of
sylvan scenery may be seen the more delightful object of
multitudes of simple people sitting in the shade listening to
the words of eternal life. Much as yet is not done; but I have
seen many discover by their looks while Marshman was preaching
that their hearts were tenderly affected. My post is not yet
determined; we expect, however, it will be Patna, a civil
station, where I shall not be under military command. As you are
so kindly anxious about my health, I am happy to say, that
through mercy my health is far better than it ever was in
England.

The people of Calcutta are very desirous of keeping me at the
mission-church, and offer to any Evangelical clergyman a
chaplain's salary and a house besides. I am of course deaf to
such a proposal; but it is strange that no one in England is
_tempted_ by such an inviting situation. I am actually going to
mention it to Cousin T.H. and Emma--not, as you may suppose,
with much hope of success; but I think that possibly the chapel
at Dock may be too much for him, and he will have here a sphere
of still greater importance. As this will be sent by the
overland despatch, there is some danger of its not reaching you.
You will therefore receive a duplicate, and perhaps a triplicate
by the ships that will arrive in England a month or two after. I
cannot write now to any of my friends. I will therefore trouble
you, if you have opportunity, to say that I have received no
letters since I left England, but one from each of these--Cousin
Tom and Emma, Simeon, Sargent, Bates: of my own family I have
heard nothing. Assure any of them whom you may see of the
continuance of my affectionate regard, especially dear Emma. I
did not know that it was permitted me to write to you, or I fear
she would not have found me so faithful a correspondent on the
voyage. As I have heretofore addressed you through her, it is
probable that I may be now disposed to address her through
you--or, what will be best of all, that we both of us address
her in one letter from India. However, you shall decide, my
dearest Lydia. I _must_ approve your determination, because with
that spirit of simple-looking to the Lord which we both
endeavour to maintain, we must not doubt that you will be
divinely directed. Till I receive an answer to this, my prayers
you may be assured will be constantly put up for you that in
this affair you may be under an especial guidance, and that in
all your ways God may be abundantly glorified by you through
Jesus Christ. You say in your letter that _frequently every day_
you remember my worthless name before the throne of grace. This
instance of extraordinary and undeserved kindness draws my heart
toward you with a tenderness which I cannot describe. Dearest
Lydia, in the sweet and fond expectation of your being given to
me by God, and of the happiness which I humbly hope you yourself
might enjoy here, I find a pleasure in breathing out my
assurance of ardent love. I have now long loved you most
affectionately, and my attachment is more strong, more pure,
more heavenly, because I see in you the image of Jesus Christ. I
unwillingly conclude, by bidding my beloved Lydia adieu.

H. MARTYN.

Serampore: September 1, 1806.

My dearest Lydia,--With this you will receive the duplicate of
the letter I sent you a month ago, by the overland despatch. May
it find you prepared to come! All the thoughts and views which I
have had of the subject since first addressing you, add tenfold
confirmation to my first opinion; and I trust that the blessed
God will graciously make it appear that I have been acting under
a right direction, by giving the precious gift to me and to the
Church in India. I sometimes regret that I had not obtained a
promise from you of following me at the time of our last parting
at Gurlyn, as I am occasionally apt to be excessively impatient
at the long delay. Many, many months must elapse before I can
see you or even hear how you shall determine. The instant your
mind is made up you will send a letter by the overland despatch.
George will let you know how it is to be prepared, as the
Company have given some printed directions. It is a consolation
to me during this long suspense, that had I engaged with you
before my departure I should not have had such a satisfactory
conviction of it being the will of God. The Commander-in-chief
is in doubt to which of the three following stations he shall
appoint me--Benares, Patna, or Moorshedabad; it will be the
last, most probably. This is only two days' journey from
Calcutta. I shall take my departure in about six weeks. In the
hour that remains, I must endeavour to write to my dear sister
Emma, and to Sally. By the fleet which will sail hence in about
two months, they will receive longer letters. You will then, I
hope, have left England. I am very happy here in preparing for
my delightful work, but I should be happier still if I were
sufficiently fluent in the language to be actually employed; and
happiest of all if my beloved Lydia were at my right hand,
counselling and animating me. I am not very willing to end my
letter to you; it is difficult not to prolong the enjoyment of
speaking, as it were, to one who occupies so much of my sleeping
and waking hours; but here, alas! I am aware of danger; and my
dear Lydia will, I hope, pray that her unworthy friend may love
no creature inordinately.

It will be base in me to depart in heart from a God of such love
as I find Him to be. Oh, that I could make some returns for the
riches of His love! Swiftly fly the hours of life away, and then
we shall be admitted to behold His glory. The ages of darkness
are rolling fast away, and shall soon usher in the Gospel period
when the whole world shall be filled with His glory. Oh, my
beloved sister and friend, dear to me on every account, but
dearest of all for having one heart and one soul with me in the
cause of Jesus and the love of God, let us pray and rejoice, and
rejoice and pray, that God may be glorified, and the dying
Saviour see of the travail of His soul. May the God of hope fill
us with all joy and peace in believing, that we may both of us
abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost. Now, my
dearest Lydia, I cannot say what I feel--I cannot pour out my
soul--I could not if you were here; but I pray that you may love
me, if it be the will of God; and I pray that God may make you
more and more His child, and give me more and more love for all
that is God-like and holy. I remain, with fervent affection,

Yours, in eternal bonds,

H. MARTYN.

TO CHARLES SIMEON[23]

Calcutta: September 1, 1806.

My dearest Brother,--I feel no hesitation about inviting Miss
L.G. on her own account, except it be that she should come so
far for one who is so utterly unworthy of her. I would rather
die than bring one whom I honour so much into a situation of
difficulty; but indeed there is no hardship to be encountered.
In my absence she might, if she pleased, visit the English
ladies who are always to be found at the different stations. The
plan about to be adopted by the Baptists is to establish
missionary stations in the country; while one missionary makes
the circuit of the surrounding country, another shall always be
in the way to receive enquiries and to explain. I should think
that a zealous woman, acquainted with the language, and
especially if assisted by native brethren, might be of use in
this way without moving from her house.... Three such men as
Carey, Marshman, and Ward, so suited to one another and to their
work, are not to be found, I should think, in the whole world.

_September 13._--Heard of the arrival of Corrie and Parson at
Madras, and of my appointment to Dinapore.

_September 15._--Called with Mr. Brown on Mr. Udny, then went up
with him to Serampore, and passed much of the afternoon in
reading with him a series of newspapers from England. How
affecting to think how the fashion of this world passeth away!
What should I do without Christ as an everlasting portion! How
vain is life, how mournful is death, and what is eternity
without Christ! In the evening Marshman and Ward came to us. By
endeavouring to recollect myself as before God, I found more
comfort, and was enabled to show more propriety in conversation.

_September 16._--Passed the day with moonshi in Hindustani and
writing sermon. In the evening wrote to Lydia.

_September 17._--The blaze of a funeral pile this morning near
the pagoda drew my attention. I ran out, but the unfortunate
woman had committed herself to the flames before I arrived. The
remains of the two bodies were visible. At night, while I was at
the missionaries', Mr. Chamberlain arrived from up the country.
Just as we rejoiced at the thought of seeing him and his wife,
we found she had died in the boat! I do not know when I was so
shocked; my soul revolted at everything in this world, which God
has so marked with misery--the effect of sin. I felt reluctance
to engage in every worldly connection. Marriage seemed terrible,
by exposing one to the agonising sight of a wife dying in such
circumstances.

_September 24._--Went down to Calcutta with Mr. Brown and
Corrie, and found letters. My affections of love and joy were so
excited by them that it was almost too much for my poor frame.
My dearest Lydia's assurances of her love were grateful enough
to my heart, but they left somewhat of a sorrowful effect,
occasioned I believe chiefly from a fear of her suffering in any
degree, and partly from the long time and distance that separate
us, and uncertainty if ever we shall be permitted to meet one
another in this world. In the evening the Lord gave me near and
close and sweet communion with Him on this subject, and enabled
me to commit the affair with comfort into His hands. Why did I
ever doubt His love? Does He not love us far better than we love
one another?

_September 25._--Went to Serampore with Mr. Brown and Parson; in
the afternoon read with moonshi; enjoyed much of the solemn
presence of God the whole day, had many happy seasons in prayer,
and felt strengthened for the work of a missionary, which is
speedily to begin; blessed be God! My friends are alarmed about
the solitariness of my future life, and my tendency to
melancholy; but, O my dearest Lord! Thou art with me, Thy rod
and Thy staff they comfort me. I go on Thine errand, and I know
that Thou art and wilt be with me. How easily canst Thou support
and refresh my heart!

TO LYDIA GRENFELL

Serampore: September 1806.

How earnestly do I long for the arrival of my dearest Lydia!
Though it may prove at last no more than a waking dream that I
ever expected to receive you in India, the hope is too pleasing
not to be cherished till I am forbidden any longer to hope. Till
I am assured of the contrary, I shall find a pleasure in
addressing you as my own. If you are not to be mine you will
pardon me; but my expectations are greatly encouraged by the
words you used when we parted at Gurlyn, that I had better _go
out_ free, implying, as I thought, that you would not be
unwilling to follow me if I should see it to be the will of God
to make the request. I was rejoiced also to see in your letter
that you unite your name with mine when you pray that God would
keep us both in the path of duty: from this I infer that you are
by no means _determined_ to remain separate from me. You will
not suppose, my dear Lydia, that I mention these little things
to influence your conduct, or to implicate you in an engagement.
No, I acknowledge that you are perfectly free, and I have no
doubt that you will act as the love and wisdom of our God shall
direct. Your heart is far less interested in this business than
mine, in all probability; and this on one account I do not
regret, as you will be able to see more clearly the directions
of God's providence. About a fortnight ago I sent you a letter
accompanying the duplicate of the one sent overland in August.
If these shall have arrived safe you will perhaps have left
England before this reaches it. But if not, let me entreat you
to delay not a moment. Yet how will my dear sister Emma be able
to part with you, and George--but above all your _mother_? I
feel very much for you and for them, but I have no doubt at all
about your health and happiness in this country.

The Commander-in-chief has at last appointed me to the station
of Dinapore, near Patna, and I shall accordingly take my
departure for that place as soon as I can make the necessary
preparations. It is not exactly the situation I wished for,
though in a temporal point of view it is desirable enough. The
air is good, the living cheap, the salary 1,000_l._ a year, and
there is a large body of English troops there. But I should have
preferred being near Benares, the heart of Hinduism. We rejoice
to hear that two other brethren are arrived at Madras on their
way to Bengal, sent, I trust, by the Lord to co-operate in
overturning the kingdom of Satan in these regions. They are
Corrie and Parson, both Bengal chaplains. Their stations will be
Benares and Moorshedabad--one on one side of me and the other on
the other. There are also now ten Baptist missionaries at
Serampore. Surely good is intended for this country.

Captain Wickes, the good old Captain Wickes, who has brought out
so many missionaries to India, is now here. He reminds me of
Uncle S. I have been just interrupted by the blaze of a funeral
pile, within a hundred yards of my pagoda. I ran out, but the
wretched woman had consigned herself to the flames before I
reached the spot, and I saw only the remains of her and her
husband. O Lord, how long shall it be? Oh, I shall have no rest
in my spirit till my tongue is loosed to testify against the
Devil, and deliver the message of God to these His unhappy
bond-slaves. I stammered out something to the wicked Brahmins
about the judgments of God upon them for the murder they had
just committed, but they said it was an act of her own
free-will. Some of the missionaries would have been there, but
they are forbidden by the Governor-General to preach to the
natives in the British territory. Unless this prohibition is
revoked by an order from home it will amount to a total
suppression of the mission.

I know of nothing else that will give you a further idea of the
state of things here. The two ministers continue to oppose my
doctrines with unabated virulence; but they think not that they
fight against God. My own heart is at present cold and slothful.
Oh, that my soul did burn with love and zeal! Surely were you
here I should act with more cheerfulness and activity with so
bright a pattern before me. If Corrie brings me a letter from
you, and the fleet is not sailed, which, however, is not likely,
I shall write to you again. Colonel Sandys will receive a letter
from me and Mr. Brown by this fleet. Continue to remember me in
your prayers, as a weak brother. I shall always think of you as
one to be loved and honoured.

H. MARTYN.

_September 26._--Employed as usual in Hindustani; visited
Marshman at night. He and Mr. Carey sat with us in the evening.
My heart still continuing some degree of watchfulness, but
enjoying less sweetness.

_October 1._--Reading with moonshi and preparing sermon; found
great cause to pray for brotherly love. Preached at night at the
mission-church on Eph. ii. 4. Had a very refreshing conversation
with Corrie afterwards; we wished it to be for the benefit of
two cadets, who supped with us, and I hope it will not be in
vain. May the Lord be pleased to make me act with a single eye
to His glory. How easy it is to preach about Christ Jesus the
Lord, and yet to preach oneself.

None of six letters from Lydia Grenfell have been preserved, but we find in her _Diary_ more self-revealing of her heart than could be made to Henry Martyn, and also more severity in judging of herself as in the presence of God.

_1806, May 23._--Wrote dear H. I have felt to-day a return of
spirits, but have spent them too much in worldly things. I found
it a blessed season in prayer, yet I fear whether my
satisfaction did not rather arise from being enabled to pray
than from any extraordinary communications from above. O Lord,
search and try my heart, let not its deceitfulness impose on me.

_July 19._--Thought much this week of my dear absent friend.

_August 2._--My family's unhappiness preys on my mind--sister
burning with anger and resentment against sister, brother
against brother, a father against his children. Oh, what a
picture! Let me not add to the weight of family sin.

_August 4._--Passed a happy day. Read Baxter, and found in doing
so my soul raised above. Oh, let me have, blessed Lord,
anticipations of this blessedness and foretaste of glory. In Thy
presence above I shall be reunited to Thy dear saint, now
labouring in Thy vineyard in a distant land. One year is nearly
passed since we parted, but scarcely a waking hour, I believe,
has he been absent from my mind. In general my remembrance of
him is productive of pleasure--that I should possess so large a
share of his affection, and be remembered in his prayers, and
have an eternity to spend with him, yielding me in turn
delightful pleasing meditations; but just now nature grieves
that we are no more to meet below; yet, O my blessed Father, I
cry, 'Thy will be done, not as I will, but as Thou wilt.'

_August 10._--Went to church. My soul was very dull and
inanimate throughout the service--the sermon had nothing in it
to enliven or instruct. Barren as this place is for other means
of grace, I have the Word and leisure to search; I cannot then
complain, but of myself there is cause enough. Oh, how is my
soul so earthly? why cannot I rise and dwell above? Tied and
bound with the chain of sin, fettered and confined, I can only
cast a look above. One year is gone since my dear friend left
England. The number of our years of separation is so much
lessened, and our salvation draws near.

_October 19._--My birthday. One-and-thirty years have I existed
on this earth, for twenty-five of which all the amount was sin,
vanity, and rebellion against God; the last six, though spent
differently, yet for every day in them I am persuaded I have
sinned in heart, so as justly to merit condemnation of that God
in whose mercy I trust.

_November 5._--To-day I was reading of David's harp driving away
the evil spirit from Saul, and resolved again (the Lord helping
me) to try the sweet harp of Jesse's son in my first and last
waking thoughts, for sad and disordered are my thoughts upon my
friend. The expectation of letters from my dear friend in India
by this fleet is almost over, and my mind is rendered anxious
about him.

_November 25._--My very soul has been cheered by accounts from
my dear friend in India, for whom my mind has been greatly
anxious. 'Cast thy cares on Me' is a command badly attended to
by me.

The formal and first request from Henry Martyn to join him in India reached Lydia Grenfell on March 2, 1807. We learn from his reply in October 1807, from Dinapore, that she had sent a refusal in her mother's name. But, on April 25, the Rev. Charles Simeon called on her with the result which he thus records:

With her mother's leave Miss G. accompanied us to Col. Sandys',
when I had much conversation with her about Mr. Martyn's affair.
She stated to me all the obstacles to his proposals: first, her
health; second, the indelicacy of her going out to India alone
on such an errand; third, her former engagement with another
person, which had indeed been broken off, and he had actually
gone up to London two years ago to be married to another woman,
but, as he was unmarried, it seemed an obstacle in her mind;
fourth, the certainty that her mother would never consent to it.
On these points I observed that I thought the last was the only
one that was insurmountable; for that, first, India often agreed
best with persons of a delicate constitution--_e.g._ Mr. Martyn
himself and Mr. Brown. Second, it is common for ladies to go
thither without any previous connection; how much more,
therefore, might one go with a connection already formed! Were
this the only difficulty, I engaged, with the help of Mr. Grant
and Mr. Parry, that she should go under such protection as
should obviate all difficulties upon this head. Third, the step
taken by the other person had set her at perfect liberty.
Fourth, the consent of her mother was indispensable, and as that
appeared impossible, the matter might be committed to God in
this way. If her mother, of her own accord, should express
regret that the connection had been prevented, from an idea of
her being irreconcilably averse to it, and that she would not
stand in the way of her daughter's wishes, this would be
considered as a direction from God in answer to her prayers, and
I should instantly be apprised of it by her, in order to
communicate to Mr. M. _In this she perfectly agreed._ I told
her, however, that I would mention nothing of this to Mr. M.,
because it would only tend to keep him in painful suspense.
Thus the matter is entirely set aside, unless God, by a special
interposition of His providence (_i.e._ by taking away her
mother, or overruling her mind, contrary to all reasonable
expectation, to approve of it), mark His own will concerning it.

We find this account of the crisis in her _Diary_:

_1807, March 2._--Passed some peaceful happy days at Tregembo.
My return was marked by two events, long to be
remembered--seeing John and hearing from H.M. Great has been my
distress, but peace is returned, and could I cease from
anticipating future evils I should enjoy more. The Lord has been
gracious in affording me help, but He made me first feel my
weakness, and suffered Satan to harass me. I am called upon now
to act a decisive part.

_Marazion, March 8._--With David let me say, In the multitude of
thoughts within me Thy comforts have refreshed my soul. O Thou!
my refuge, my rest, my hiding-place, in every time of sorrow to
Thee I fly, and trust in the covert of Thy wings. Thou hast been
a shelter for me and a strong tower. I have liberty to pour out
my griefs into the bosom of my God, and doing so I am lightened
of their burden. The Lord's dealings are singular with me, yet
not severe, yea, they are merciful. Twice have I been called on
to act[24] ... in a way few are tried in, but the Lord's
goodness towards me is so manifest in the first, that I have
come to wait in silence and hope the event of this. I am
satisfied I have done now what is right, and peace has returned
to me; yet there is need of great watchfulness to resist the
enemy of souls, who would weaken and depress my soul, bringing
to remembrance the affection of my dear friend, and representing
my conduct as ungrateful towards him. To-day I have had many
distressing feelings on his account, yet in the general I have
been looking to things invisible and eternal, and therefore
enjoyed peace. I must live more in the contemplation of Christ
and heavenly things. Oh, come, fill and satisfy my soul, be my
leader and guide, dispose of me as Thou wilt. The pain of
writing to him is over, and I feel satisfied I wrote what duty
required of me.[25] Now then, return, O my soul, to thy rest.

_March 22._--A week of conflict and of mercies is over. May the
remembrance of Thy goodness never be forgotten. I bless Thee, O
my God, that Thou hast brought me hitherto, and with more reason
than David, inquire what am I that Thou shouldest do so?

_April 23._--To-day my mind has been painfully affected by the
receipt of letters from ----. I found in the presence of my
mother I dared not indulge the inclination I feel to mourn; and
believing my Heavenly Parent's will to be that I should be
careful for nothing, I ought to be equally exerting myself in
secret to resist the temptation. How true it is we suffer more
in the person of another dear to us than in our own! Lord, I
know Thou canst perfectly satisfy him by the consolation of Thy
Spirit and communications of Thy grace; Thou canst display the
glories of Thy beloved Son to his view, and put gladness into
his heart. Oh, support, cheer, and bless him; let Thy left hand
be under his head, and Thy right hand embrace him, that he may
feel less than my fears suggest. Oh, do Thou powerfully impress
our minds with a persuasion of Thy overruling hand in this
trial. Let us see it to be Thy will, and be now and ever
disposed to bow to it. Uphold me, Jesus, or I fan a prey to
distracting thoughts and imagination.

_April 24._--The arrival of dear Mr. Simeon has been a cordial
to my fainting heart. Lord, do Thou comfort me by him; none but
Thyself can give me lasting comfort--instruments are nothing
without Thee. Oh, may I now be watchful, for often, through my
depraved nature, when unlooked-for deliverance comes, I get
careless and light in my frame; then the Lord hides His face,
and trouble comes, which no outward circumstances can relieve. I
need especial direction from on high. Oh, may my dependence be
on the Lord, and I shall not go astray.

_April 28._--Went on Saturday with Mr. Simeon and Mr. E. to
Helston. Lord, I bless Thy holy name, I adore Thy wonderful
unmerited goodness towards such a base, vile creature, that Thou
shouldest at this particular season send me counsel and support
through the medium of Thy dear servant. I am brought home again
in safety, and enjoyed, during my absence, an opportunity of
seeing how a Christian lives.

_April 29._--The state of my mind lately has led me to fill too
much of my _Diary_ with expressions of regard for an earthly
object, and now I am convinced of the evil of indulging this
affection. Oh, may the Lord enable me to mortify it; may this
mirror of my heart show me more of love to God and less to
anything earthly. This morning was a sad one, and to the present
I have to mourn over the barrenness of my soul, its
indisposedness to any spiritual exertion. Almost constantly do I
remember my dear absent friend; may I do so with less pain.

_May 1._--I begin this month in circumstances peculiarly trying,
such as I can support only by aid vouchsafed from above, and
sought in constant prayer. The Lord is a stronghold in this time
of trouble.

_May 2._--To-day and yesterday I have found more composure of
mind than of late; once indeed the enemy (whose devices I am too
ignorant of to meet them as I ought) succeeded in distracting my
mind, and excited many sinful passions from the probability that
Miss Corrie, who is going to her brother, may be the partner
appointed for my dear friend. This continued for a short time
only, and I found relief at a throne of grace. It is a subject
I must not dwell on--when the trial comes, grace will be given;
but at present I have none to meet it; yet have I prayed the
Lord to provide him a suitable helpmate. Deceitful is my heart;
how little do I know it! O Thou bleeding Saviour, let me hide
myself in Thee from deserved wrath, and oh, speak peace once
more to my soul.

_May 3._--A day of much sinful inquietude. Oh, that I could
withdraw my affections! Oh, that I could once more feel I have
no desire but after heavenly things! What a chaos has my mind
been to-day, even in the house of God and at the throne of
grace. I have been, in imagination, conversing with a
fellow-creature. Where is thy heart? is a question not now to be
answered satisfactorily. Tied and bound with this chain, if for
a little time I rise to God, soon I turn from the glories of His
face, grieving His Spirit by preferring the ideal presence of my
friend--sometimes drawing the scene of his distress, at others
the pleasure of his return. Oh, let me not continue thus to walk
in the vanity of my mind. Oh, may I find sufficient happiness in
the presence of my God here, and live looking to the things not
seen, looking to that heavenly country where I shall enjoy in
perfection the blessed society and (of?) all I loved below.

_May 4._--Passed a day of less conflict, though I have very
imperfectly kept my resolution not to indulge vain improbable
expectations of the future; yet I have been favoured with a
greater freedom from them than yesterday.

_May 5._--I have been suddenly to-day seized with a violent
depression of spirits and a sadness of heart, hard to be
concealed. I have not, as before, fallen into a long train of
vain imaginations, drawing scenes improbable and vain, but my
soul has lost its spiritual appetite. I am looking forward to
distant and uncertain events with anticipations of sorrow and
trial impending. O my Lord and my God, come to my relief!

_May 9._--Oh, what great troubles and adversities hast Thou
showed me, and yet Thou didst turn again and refresh me! The
whole of this day has been a dark and exceedingly gloomy season,
my mind tossed to and fro like the tempestuous sea. I think the
chief cause of my distress arises from a dread of dishonouring
the name of the Lord, by appearing to have acted deceitfully in
the eyes of my family, and some pride is at the bottom of this
(I like not to be thought ill of), and also pain for the
disappointment my dear friend will soon know. His situation
grieves me infinitely more than my own. I think, for myself, I
want nothing more than I find in Thy presence.

_May 20._--My chief concern now is lest I should have given too
much reason for my dear friend's hoping I might yet be prevailed
on to attend to his request, and I feel the restraint stronger
than ever, that, having before promised, I am not free to marry.
I paint the scene of his return, and, whichever way I take,
nothing but misery and guilt seems to await me. Yet oh, I will
continue to pray, 'Heal me, and I shall be healed; save me, and
I shall be saved.' Thou art my strength and hope, O Lord; though
shame is my portion among men. Thou who knowest my heart, Thou
wilt not in this condemn me, for oh, Thou knowest these
consequences of my regard for Thy dear saint were not intended
by me, and that first, when I regarded him otherwise than as a
Christian brother, I believed myself free to do so, imagining
him I first loved united to another. When I consider this
circumstance my mind is relieved of a heavy burden, and yet I
must lament the evils that have flown from this mistake. My
thoughts have been called since Sunday into the eternal world by
the sudden death of a very kind friend, H.C. I have found this
event, though the cause of pain, very useful to me at this time.

_May 22._--The way Satan takes is made plain to me, and I must
resist him in the first pleasing ideas arising from the
remembrance of true affection in my dear and ever-esteemed
friend. When I yield to these, I am presently lost to all sober
thoughts, and plunged soon in the deepest sorrow for the
distress it has brought on him; then my conduct towards him and
every part of my family is painted in the most horrid colours,
till I am nearly distracted. Thus has Satan over and over
oppressed me, and relief been afforded my fainting soul through
the help of a superior power even than Satan. I must watch and
pray, for thus the Lord will bruise Satan under my feet.

_August 6._--This season recalls a dear friend to my
remembrance. Oh, may he occupy no more of my thoughts and
affections than is consistent with the will of God, and pleasing
in His sight. May these resignations be manifested by us both.

_August 9._--Just two years since I parted from a dear friend
and brother, whose memory will ever be cherished by me. Blessed
be God! I feel now as if he was the inhabitant of another world,
rather than of another part of this earth.

On October 10, 1806, on the close of his preparations for departure to Dinapore, 'at night the missionaries, etc., met us at the pagoda for the purpose of commending me to the grace of God.' 'My soul never yet had such Divine enjoyment. I felt a desire to break from the body, and join the high praises of the saints above.' Next day, in Calcutta, at evening worship at Mr. Myers', 'I found my heaven begun on earth. No work so sweet as that of praying and living wholly to the service of God.' On Sunday, the 12th, 'at night I took my leave of the saints in Calcutta in a sermon on Acts xx. 32. But how very far from being in spirit like the great apostle.' On Monday he went up by land to Barrackpore with Mr. Brown, 'happy in general.' On Tuesday 'Corrie came to me at the pagoda and prayed with me.'

_1806, October 15._--Took my leave of the family at Aldeen in
morning worship; but I have always found my heart most unable to
be tender and solemn when occasions most require it. At eleven I
set off in a budgerow with Mr. Brown, Corrie, and Parson.
Marshman saw us as we passed the mission-house, and could not
help coming aboard. He dined with us, and after going on a
little way left us with a prayer. About sunset we landed at the
house of the former French governor, and walked five miles
through villages to Chandernagore, where we waited at an hotel
till the boats came up. With the French host I found a liberty I
could not have hoped for in his language, and was so enabled to
preach the Gospel to him. There are two Italian monks in this
place, who say Mass every day. I wished much to visit the
fathers, if there had been time. A person of Calcutta, here for
his health, troubled us with his profaneness, but we did not let
him go unwarned, nor kept back the counsel of God. At night in
the budgerow I prayed with my dear brethren.

_October 16._--Rose somewhat dejected, and walked on to
Chinsurah, the Dutch settlement, about three miles. There we
breakfasted, and dined with Mr. Forsyth, the missionary. We all
enjoyed great happiness in the presence and blessing of our God.
Mr. Forsyth came on with us from Chinsurah, till we stopped at
sunset opposite Bandel, a Portuguese settlement, and then we had
Divine service. I prayed and found my heart greatly enlarged.
After his departure our conversation was suitable and spiritual.
How sweet is prayer to my soul at this time! I seem as if I
never could be tired, not only of spiritual joys, but of
spiritual employments, since they are now the same.

_October 17._--My dear brethren, on account of the bad weather,
were obliged to leave me to-day. So we spent the whole morning
in a Divine ordinance in which each read a portion of Scripture
and all sang and prayed. Mr. Brown's passage, chosen from Joshua
i., was very suitable, 'Have I not commanded thee?' Let this be
an answer to my fears, O my Lord, and an assurance that I am in
Thy work. It was a very affecting season to me. In prayer I was
very far from a state of seriousness and affection. Indeed, I
have often remarked that I have never yet prayed comfortably
with friends when it has been preceded by a chapter of the
Revelation. Perhaps because I depend too much on the feelings
which the imagery of that book excites, instead of putting
myself into the hands of the Spirit, the only author of the
prayer of faith. They went away in their boat, and I was left
alone for the first time, with none but natives.

FOOTNOTES:

[22] _The Life and Times of Carey, Marshman, and Ward_, London, 1859. _The Life of William Carey_ (John Murray), 2nd edition, 1887.

[23] First published (1892) by Rev. H.C.G. Moule from the autograph collection made by Canon Carus, the successor and biographer of Charles Simeon.

[24] A line has been erased by a subsequent writer.

[25] 'Her letter was to bid me a last farewell.'--Martyn's _Journal_. This was received November 23.