own languages, exhausted nature sunk under the apostolic labour, and in this place he was called to the rest of heaven His remains sleep in a grave as humble as his own meekness."'*

In the "Memoirs of the Life of Sir James Mackintosh," we likewise catch a glimpse or two of Mr. Martyn, when on the point of leaving India.

Whoever is acquainted with the biographical memoirs of Sir J. Mackintosh will be apt to regret that, exceedingly praiseworthy as were his exertions to promote enlightened civilization in India, his thoughts ran habitually in a metaphysical and casuistical train, to the exclusion almost of any interest in the work which absorbed Mr. Martyn's whole heart and mind.

It was not, evidently, till towards the close of his most industrious and useful life, that faith in the atoning blood of Christ became his main-stay.

In his Journal, Sunday, Feb. 24, 1811, he says, "Elphinstone introduced me to-day to a young clergyman, called Martyn, coming round from Bengal on his way to Bussora, partly for health, and partly to improve his Arabic, as he is translating the Scriptures into that language. He seems to be a mild and benevolent enthusiast a sort of character with which I am always half in love. We had the novelty of grace before and after dinner, all the company standing."

A few days after the above introduction, Sir James again observes, "Mr. Martyn, the saint from Calcutta, called here. He is a man of acuteness and learning, his

*"Sir R. K. Porter's Travels in Persia," vol. ii. p. 703.

2

meekness is excessive, and gives a disagreeable impression of effort to conceal the passions of human nature."

What can be more offensive than such pride of the human heart as is evinced in the above judgment, passed off hand, by Sir James Mackintosh on Henry Martyn?

Fortunately for Sir James there is still another reference to Mr. Martyn, of a redeeming character, although introduced sneeringly :—

"Padre' Martyn, the saint, dined here in the evening; it was a very considerably more pleasant evening than usual; he is a mild and ingenious man. We had two or three hours' good discussion on grammar and metaphysics."

Mr. Martyn, in his Journal, speaks of Mr. Elphinstone,* who was one of his fellow-passengers in his voyage from Calcutta to Bombay, as follows:-"His agreeable manners and classical acquirements made me think myself fortunate indeed in having such a companion, and I found his company the most agreeable part of my voyage." When off the Island of Ceylon, they landed and took a walk together, and were recognised as Protestant Christians.

Sir James Mackintosh was, at all events, what must be considered a liberal Christian, at the period of his official residence at Bombay. In his Journal of Sept., 1810, he thus expresses himself,-"It is impossible, I think, to look into the interior of any sect without thinking better of it. I ought, indeed, to confine myself to those of Christian Europe; but, with that limitation, it seems to me that the remark is true;-whether I

* The Hon. Mountstuart Elphinstone, who was on his way to assume the duties of resident at Poonah.

*

look at the Jansenists of Port Royal, or the Quakers in Clarkson, or the Methodists in these journals. All these sects which appear dangerous or ridiculous at a distance, assume a much more amiable character on nearer inspection. They all inculcate pure virtue, and practise mutual kindness; and they exert great force of reason in rescuing their doctrines from the absurd or pernicious consequences which naturally flow from them."

It has been asserted, I believe, on good authority, that Coleridge was asked to accompany Sir J. Mackintosh to India, for the sake of his colloquial powers; and I scarcely know whether it is to be regretted or not that these two great men were not thus intimately associated for months or years. Would they have ripened into more perfect Christians-into Transcendentalists—or into madmen? My belief is that Coleridge would have taken the first opportunity of returning to England, and that the Scotchman would have gladly speeded his parting guest. Their spirits were not congenial like those of Coleridge and Wordsworth, who could sit together in perfect mental enjoyment without saying a word. The capability of doing so occasionally, Coleridge considered the surest test of friendship.

At the period of my intimacy with Coleridge, in Germany, he was fond of mentioning Mackintosh, and I thought that I once heard him say that, in some argumentation, at which he was present, between Mr. Mackintosh and Coleridge's great friend, Mr. Poole, of

*Christian Observer.

Stowey, the logician was apparently getting the better of his more plain-minded adversary, when the latter suddenly closed with him, and bluntly told him, “You may talk on, but what I say is right, and your subtle logic won't make it otherwise;" Coleridge evidently awarding the palm to his friend Tom Poole.

Not feeling sure that my memory respecting the above relation was quite correct, I wrote to Mr. Poole, for the benefit of any recollection he might have of this or any other conversation he might have had with Mr. Mackintosh, and at the same time I made inquiries about other matters which were then particularly engaging my attention. The insertion here of his obliging

answer is due to the memory of this most amiable man; and its interest will not be lessened by my observing that I am at this moment writing in the year of our Lord

1855.

"My Dear Sir,

"N. Stowey, 6th June, 1836.

"The receipt of your letter gave me great pleasure, at it seemed to me, as if one of my old friends, of whom, alas! I have lost so many, was returned from the dead. The last time I saw you, many years ago, you were residing at Truro, and how is it now you are at Bath? Is it as a resident, or, as I hope not, pro tempore, for your health?

"At all events I hope your health is in a tolerable state, as you are enabled so cheerfully to pursue an amusement which, while it interests you, will, I doubt not, be generally interesting, and I need not add, particularly so to myself.

"The difficulty in composing your work is to make it sufficiently interesting, and at the same time to avoid breaches of confidence and the giving of pain. I am quite sure, from your kind letter to me, that you will sacrifice the former rather than make the least approach to either of the latter.*

666

"No man,' says Rochefoucault, is a hero to his valet de chambre.' And the truth is, that men of great virtue, of the most splendid and ardent talents, often manifest some of the infirmities of human nature as well as its excellencies; and generally with similar energy.

" Our very dear friend Coleridge was a striking

illustration of this remark. And in writing the biography of such men, I hold that much injury is done in exhibiting, in detail, their infirmities. Those who cannot reach their excellencies can easily ape their infirmities, and plead high example as an apology for their misconduct.

"To come to the more immediate object of your letter -the extract you have kindly given from your proposed publication. I am obliged to tell you that I have no recollection of the conversations at which Sir J. Mackintosh was present, and to which you allude, nor am I by any means certain of my ever having met Sir James at either of the Mr. Wedgwoods. Are you quite sure that Coleridge, in his more than kind partiality for me,

* I am not aware that in my frequent notices of Coleridge, in the first vol. of my "Early Years," I ever departed from the fair spirit of Mr. Poole's most friendly and amiable injunctions. Nevertheless, I was bound to bear in mind a maxim adopted by Coleridge himself,-" Debeo amicis opitulari, sed usque ad Superos."