Chapter 4

"October 2. Lodged in the stables of the post-house. As soon as it began to grow a little cold, the ague came on and then the fever, after which I had a sleep, which let me know too plainly the disorder of my frame. In the night Hossan sent to summon me away, but I was quite unable to move. Finding me still in bed at the dawn he began to storm furiously at my detaining him so long, but I quietly let him spend his ire, ate my breakfast composedly, and set out at eight. He seemed determined to make up for the delay, for we flew over hill and dale to Sherean, where we changed horses. From thence we traveled all the rest of the day and all night. It rained most of the time. After sunset the ague came on again, which in my wet state was very trying. I hardly know how to keep my life in me. About that time there was a village at hand, but Hassan had no mercy. The night was pitchy dark, so that I could not see the road under my horse's feet. However, God being mercifully pleased to alleviate my bodily suffering, I went on contentedly to the munzil (stopping-place). After sleeping three or four hours Hassan hurried me away, and galloped furiously toward a village, which he said was four hours distant, which was all I could undertake in my present state; but village after village did he pass, till night coming on, and no signs of another, I suspected he was carrying me on to the munzil; so I got off my horse and sat upon the ground and told him I neither could nor would go any farther. He stormed, but I was immovable, till a light, appearing at a distance, I mounted my horse and made toward it, leaving him to follow or not as he pleased. He brought in the party, but would not exert himself to get a place for me. They brought me to an open verandah, but Sergius told them I wanted a place in which to be alone. This seemed very offensive to them, 'and why must he be alone'? they asked, ascribing this desire of mine to pride, I suppose. Tempted at last by money they brought me to a stable room, and Hassan and a number of others planted themselves there with me. My fever here increased to a violent degree, the heat in my eyes and forehead was so great that the fire almost made me frantic. I entreated that it might be put out or that I might be carried out of doors. Neither was attended to; my servant, who from my sitting in that strange way on the ground, believed me delirious, was deaf to all I said. At last I pushed my head in among the luggage and lodged it on the damp ground and slept.

"October 5. Preserving mercy made me see the light of another morning. The sleep had refreshed me but I was feeble and shaken, yet the merciless Hassan hurried me off. I was pretty well lodged and felt tolerably well till a little after sunset, when the ague came on with a violence I had never before experienced. I felt as if in a palsy, my teeth chattering, and my whole frame violently shaken. Aga Hosyn and another Persian on their way here from Constantinople, came hastily to render me assistance if they could. These Persians appear quite brotherly after the Turks. While they pitied me, Hassan sat in perfect indifference, ruminating on the further delay this was likely to occasion. The cold fit after continuing two or three hours was followed by a fever, which lasted the whole night and prevented sleep.

"October 6. No horses were to be had, and I had an unexpected repose. Sat in the orchard and thought with sweet comfort and peace of my God: in solitude my companion, friend and comforter. Oh, when shall time give place to eternity--when shall appear that new heaven and earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness! There, there shall in no wise enter in anything that defileth; none of that wickedness which has made men worse than wild beasts, none of those corruptions which add still more to the miseries of humanity, shall be seen or heard of any more."

Here abruptly closes the journal, with pantings for the glory and the purity of Immanuel's land, into which he was admitted by a blessed translation, released from all the sufferings of life on October 16, 1812, at Tocat, Turkey. The manner of his death is not known, whether it resulted from the sickness described, or from the plague, then raging. Whether Hassan was cruel and driving to the last, whether all his heartless Turkish attendants deserted him or not in his hour of final agony, we cannot tell. No relative or friend was there, no tender voice of sympathy, no woman's soothing hand, no alleviations from medicine. Even the commonest decencies and necessities of civilized life were lacking. Earth gave nothing to Henry Martyn in his mortal need, but we are sure heavenly consolations were unstinted.

"Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are."

And Jesus was there! And Henry Martyn was satisfied, and is forever satisfied! "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." And the most priceless legacy of the blood-bought and commissioned church is the memory of a life, so gifted, so unselfish, so consecrated.

It is wanting in no element of moral heroism. Our souls confess its grandeur. The contemplation lifts us into a higher atmosphere than that of mammon, and self, and earth. We rejoice to see a crown so rare, so fair, so precious, laid at the feet of Jesus, the King. He is worthy. And we long to see the youth of our land and the church inspired by Henry Martyn's example, as he was inspired by David Brainerd's. And so we would have the apostolic succession continued till the millennium, of such as shall not count their lives dear for the testimony of the gospel.

It is said that after Mr. Martyn's death one of his earliest and most devoted friends, the Rev. Charles Simeon, used always to keep his picture before him in his study for help and inspiration. "Move where he would through the apartment, it seemed to keep its eyes upon him, and ever to say to him, 'Be earnest, be earnest; don't trifle, don't trifle,' and the good Simeon would gently bow to the speaking picture, and with a smile, reply, 'Yes, I will; I will be in earnest, I will not trifle; for souls are perishing and Jesus is to be glorified.'"

Would that Henry Martyn's life might bring such a message to every heart, and awaken in every one a similar response.

MISSIONARY ANNALS. Price per vol., cloth 30c., paper 18c.

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III. WOMAN AND THE GOSPEL IN PERSIA _BY REV. THOMAS LAURIE, D.D._

IV. LIFE OF REV. JUSTIN PERKINS, D.D. _BY REV. HENRY MARTYN PERKINS_.

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