flood of tears, and wished to kiss his feet; but instead of permitting this, Mr. M. shook hands with him and was himself much affected. In taking leave, however, of the four friars with whom he had engaged in so much earnest disputation-"We parted," he says, "with mutual lamentations over one another; I telling them that they were in an awful error; they smiling at my obstinacy, and mourning over my lost condition. I went away in no small dejection, that the Gospel should have so little effect, or rather none at all."

The rowers of the boat in which he returned to his ship were Mahomedans, and were singing hymns all the way to the honour of Mahomet; and, to complete his misery, he encountered in the boat some Mr. B- with whom he entered into discussion on religion, and whose infidel principles were so decided that he professed himself unable to see what more could be necessary than to tell mankind they must be sober and honest; and that all poor Martyn had been saying was nothing to the purpose. It is not surprising, therefore, that the account given in his journal of his visit to St. Salvador, which was nevertheless not devoid of agreeable incidents, should have terminated in lamentations. "I turned away," he says, 66 and, with a deep sigh, cried to God to interfere in behalf of his Gospel; for in the course of one hour, I had seen three shocking mementos of the reign and power of the devil, in the form of Popish and Mahomedan delusion, and that of the natural man. I never felt so strongly what a nothing I am. All my clear arguments are good for nothing; unless the Lord stretch out His hand, I speak to stones.

I felt, however, no way discouraged, but only saw the necessity of dependence on God."

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As we proceed onward with Mr. Martyn in the pages of his eventful journal, we hardly know whether most to admire the zeal and fortitude with which he persisted in running the race that was set before him, or the tenderness of heart which gave evidence of the sacrifice he was making of worldly comforts. At one time he speaks of the solemn awe he felt, soon after leaving the Cape, when, looking at the immense expanse of sea on the east which was to carry him to India, he reflected on the certainty that the name of Christ should at some period resound from shore to shore. "I felt commanded," he says, 'to wait in silence, and see how God would bring His promises to pass." How precisely similar must be the reflections of every contemplative mind, even now, after the lapse of half a century, with regard to the millions of unconverted heathens still occupying the countries to which he alluded! And how illustrative of frail humanity, impelled by religious enthusiasm, are the reflections which follow his declared purpose to submit, under all circumstances, to God's overruling providence and dispensations! "Whilst sitting to rest myself towards night, I began to reflect with death-like despondency on my friendless condition. Not that I wanted any of the comforts of life, but I wanted those kind friends who loved me, and in whose company I used to find such delight after my fatigues. And then, remembering that I should never see them more, I felt one of those keen pangs of misery that occasionally shoot across my breast. It seemed like a dream, that I had

actually undergone banishment from them for life. But, at this time, I solemnly renewed my self-dedication to God, praying that for His service I might receive grace to spend my days in continued suffering and separation from all I held most dear in this life-for ever. Amen.— How vain and transitory are those pleasures which the worldliness of my heart will ever be magnifying into real good!"

Occasions constantly present themselves which excite regret that the earnest zeal of so good a man was not always tempered with that gentleness of manner which, without compromising the truth, found a way for Bishop Heber to every heart. When in the hospital at the Cape, amidst the wounded, Mr. Martyn says," Having some conversation with Col. I asked him whether, if the wound he had received in the late engagement had been mortal, his profaneness would have recurred with any pleasure to his mind on a death-bed.' He made some attempts at palliation, though in great confusion; but bore the admonition very patiently."

6

Here there will be no doubt of Mr. Martyn's faithfulness; but how differently, it may be supposed, would Bishop Heber have managed his questions and admonitions!

On his voyage to India from the Cape, "The violent and increasing opposition he experienced from many of the more intelligent part of the passengers, and the discouraging inattention he too often perceived amongst the other class of his hearers, caused him to 'grieve on their account, and to humble himself before God."" down," he says, "and stand in the midst of a few, with

"I go

out their taking the slightest notice of me. Lord, it is for thy sake I suffer such slights-let me persevere notwithstanding." But though he mourned on their account, he was "contented to be left without fruit, if such were the will of God."

Thus does poor Martyn go on, braving contempt and difficulties; placing his dependence upon God, and yet in a manner dallying with what may, not inaptly, be termed the emotions of his own spirit. These sometimes cheer him, and at other times produce despondency; often, no doubt, in connexion with the fluctuations of his bodily temperament and condition. It never seems to have occurred to him, that in order to realise his hopes of producing religious impressions almost instantaneously on the hardened hearts to which he often had to address himself, nothing short of miraculous intervention would have sufficed; and that the judicious plan of proceeding was, therefore, to select, and not force, opportunities of cultivating such impressions on hearts unprepared for their reception.

What a weight of unnecessary self-abasement would thus have been spared him! But so totally devoid was he of all guile, that he was naturally prone to overlook our Saviour's injunction to "combine the wisdom of the serpent with the innocency of the dove," which, like all His precepts, was addressed to intelligent hearers, having Reason, as a lamp of the soul, within them. Is not this a rock on which good and zealous missionaries often split? And, if so, what abundant cause have we to rejoice that there has ever been so marked a combination of sobriety of purpose with rectitude of principle in the proceedings