Letters, 1812
Leften — To Her. T. ThomaiOD, on the Stewards’ thm Hk BnUierf illiieM — IfaitfB in PenM — Grief fiv hu People — To Hn. Thomaaon, affectionate thonslits — te Bcv.’T.
. Thomaaon, on being a Select Preacher — Godij jealousy over himsel? — Maityn’s diicnasions — His Brother’s change o( residence — New rooms in to tke Isle of — Haityn’s sennon — On writing Befigions Lettcn — Airivil of Maityu’s picture — I& Brothers spiritual stete — Maztjf s illness.
1812.
COEEBSPONDBNCB.
To the Rev. T. Thomabon.
«Ja]L23, J812.
‘• My beloved and honored Brother, —
“Though I have within these few days sent you, including your wife and children, a long letter of twelve sheets, I be another, which will probably before it is finished occupy a considerable space. Of all things most interesting to me, and to yourself also, is the cause of God, and especially where it is immediately connected with our own official duties. Having labored so long amongst us at Cambridge, you take the same lively interest in what relates to us, as if you were still present amongst us: and my intention in this letter is to put you into possession of everything as it arises. For this I have two reasons: first, to communicate to you what cannot fail to interest you most deeply; and second, to preserve a regular account of everything for my own subsequent reflection
I have been prevented, by absence, from meeting my people last month, except two societies. At the young men’s class I proceeded, m a spirit of love, to make the foregoing inquiry, informing them at the same time, that if they had ,the smallest doubt upon their minds, I would wait any time, till they should have fully and finally determined what part to act. I had rather hoped, from the spirit in which they appeared to be, that all would have made up their mind to comply with my vnshes; but I found that five of them were still in the toils of Mr., who is inde-CBAP. ZIV.] OPPOSITION OF THE ,BT£WAR08’ CLASS. 197
fktigable in his exertions to pervert and embitter their minds. However, I would not take their final answer, but save them more time to consider of it. On the first Monday in mis month, at the meeting of my visiting society, I again labored the point with all the love I could express, bringing to their minds all my experience at the time I went into Scotland in 1798; my grief at parting, my anxieties during my absence, and my joy at my
return. Every heart, except Mr. and Mr., vibrated
at the touch of that tender string; but Mr. cast out several
unkind reflections, of which however I took no notice, being extremely desirous, if possible, to carry the whole company (about twenty) along with me. But no sooner had I left the company, than Mr. and Mr. gave vent to all their unkind feelings, by which they showed to all what spirit they were of, and created much grief and much disgust in all present It happens that I am again absent, on account of the illness of my long-afflicted brother (in whom I have much comfort,) and therefore I again miss my stewards’ class. I am glad that I have occasion to miss
them; first, because it will give Mr. and Mr. — more
time to reflect on their ways; secondly, because it will give me more time to weaken their influence over the young men; and thirdly, because it will enable me to act with more firmness towards them, if I should be? able to detach the others from them. There is such a self-sufficiency in Mr., and such an obstinacy in Mr., and such a rooted determination in both to
make divisions in the church, that there never can be union amongst us again, till God shall be pleased either to change their dispositions, or to separate them ffom us. My opinion is, that God will ere long make their folly manifest unto all men, as he did that of Jannes and Jambres, and of the opponents of the Apostle Paul. My heart’s desire and prayer for them, and my incessant labor too, is, that they should desist from their evil ways and return to a becoming spirit; but if they do not, I must remove them from my (Society; though I will endeavor to proceed with all tenderness and caution, if I should at last be driven by them to this extremity.
I will now interrupt the thread of my narration to speak a little of other matters.
And first of my poor brother. His disorder has dreadfully increased during this last year, and his pains have been most distressing; but they have been sweetly sanctified to him, humbling his mind, and endearing the Saviour to his soul. Within this week he has been in imminent danger, but is now a little better. My own strength, blessed be God, is so renewed, that I can expound and pray with him twice a day, which till within these three montns was more than I could do. It is a sweet office to perform for so dear a brother, and I account it no little mercy from the Lord that He enables me to perform it
196 MARTTUr IN PBB8IA. [CHAP. XIT.
Next, let me spea of your dear mother. She came to Shelford oii’the’4th inst, and is to take up her abode there for a year at least It is probable, I think, that it will become the place of her stated abode; for the sweet remembrance which is there of those who are now in India, tends exceedingly to endear the place and people to her; and if God may enable me to contribute at all to her comfort, it will greatly facilitate my communications with her.
The Prestons are much in statu quo; their health is not strong, but they are holy and happy, and exemplary, and a great joy to all around them.
“But from whom think you did I receive a letter yesterday? From our beloved Martyn, in Persia. He begins to find his 8tren&[th improve; and he is * disputing daily’ with the learned, who, he says, are extremely subtle. They are not a little afraid of him; and are going to write a book on the Evidences of their Religion. Blessed be God, I have no doubt but that great good will result from this. The Evidences of Mahometanism! A fine comparison they will make with tjiose of Christianity. O that God may endue our brother with wisdom and strength to execute all that is in his heart He is desirous of spending ‘two years in India; and is willing to sacrifice his salary, if the East IndUa Company will not give him leave. I am going in an hour to Mr. Grant o consult him; and shall call on Mr. Astell, if Mr. G. think it expedient. I carried Mr. A. to town yesterday in my brothers carriage; but the letter had not then arrived. I have sent Mr. Martyn (i. e. I shall to-day) the duplicates of my letters which I have sent him to your care, so thus, I hope, he will receive either one or the other safe.
‘I have heard lately from Mr. Corrie, and rejoice to find he has some encouragement in his labors. I now shall put this aside, that I may write to him, for as I cannot possibly finish the subject of my people this month or two, I think it better to keep what I have written till you can have it complete. Little episodes I shall insert from time to time; which yet I could have wished to add, rather than interrupt the thread: but as I write with a copying machine, I am constrained to finish a page, or to leave it in a rude state.
The medical attendant of my brother has just been expressing his surprise to see how much I am worn within this half year: I am very sensible of it myself; and expect that I shall be much more worn, if my people continue in such a grievous state. I would that my eyes were * a fountain of tears to run down day and night* Would you believe it? I have been used to read the Scriptures to get from them rich discoveries of the power and grace of Christ, to learn how to minister to a loving and obedient people; I am now reading them really and literally to know how to minister to a conceited, contentious, and rebellious people.
Two qualities I am sure are requisite, meekness and patience: yet in some cases, I shall be constrained to * rebuke with all au-* thority, I have been used, to sail in the Pacific; I am now learning to navigate the Red Sea, that is full of shoals and rocks, with a very intricate passage. I trust the Lord will carry me safely through; but my former trials have been nothing to this.”
To Mrs. Thomason.
«Highgate,JaiL,1812.
“My verv dear and beloved and honored Sister, —
‘* What shall I say to you, in return fjpr that sweet and most acceptable token of your regard, in desiring Mr. T. to write to me on your birthday?.. We sympathized with you when we heard of the dispensation of God towards you; and we are prepared to participate your joys, if God has so ordained, as well as your sorrows. I confess to you, I think myself enriched exceedingly by the domestic scenes which I enjoyed at Shelford; and I fondly hope that, if I then emerged in any small degree from the selfish apathy of a collegiate life, I have not quite lost the feelings which your society and example excited in my breast. The circumstances of Mrs. D. have, for more than a year past, been such as to call for all my little stock of love; and I thank God I h&ve felt inexpressible delight in endeavoring to make a peppercorn acknowledgment to my brother for all his love., I cannot express to you what joy it almost daily afibrds me, to think that he is not out of my reach: I hope I love his mother for her own sake, and most of all for her Lord’s sake: but I love her also for her son’s sake, and seem to defy distance, or waves, or enemies; I can get at him at any time, and render him services, which I know are a thousand times more acceptable to him than silver and ffold. And methinks, if you, my dear sister, were by the Providence of God brought into circumstances that required my exertions, you would find that my love for him has not abated by the lapse of four years, and would be contented t9 manifest itself to him by proxy, if it could not extend to him in person. Believe me, my dearest sister,
“Most aflfectionately yours, C. Simeon.”
To Rev. T. Thomason.
“Highgate, July 17, 1812.
” My dearest Friend and Brother, —
“I have been long hoping to see a fleet from Calcutta, in order that I might receive fresh tidings from you, and behold the picture of my dear and honored friend, Mr. Martyn. I trust it will not be long before I am gratified in these respects... 1 have remembered, too, as a token of love, my dear godson. I am as yet in uncertainty, whether I am to be appointed a
200 JEALOUSY OVER HIMSELF. [cflAP. XIV.
University preacher again for next year. I am disposed to think that Mr. Mandell will fee! it a duty to his Grod to propose me; and if proposed by him, there is not much probability of any opposition bein made from other quarters. I hope that in this I do not give Mr. M. credit for more zeal and piety than he possesses. As for myself, I do not move a finger in the business. I know sufficiently in whose hands all these matters are. If God say,
Whom shall I send V 1 have the prophet’s answer ready. But if He say, ‘I have no delight in thee,’ I am equally prepared with David’s answer, Let him do as seemeth him good. How sweet it is to be assured that God reigneth! Well may faith be called
* precious faith,’ when it so composes the mind under all circum-. stances 1
“You will be glad to hear, that during the last year my strength has greatly increased: insomuch that for the last six or seven weeks I have preached twice on the Sunday; and on one Sunday administered the Lord’s Supper besides. I undertook it most
gladly, in order to liberate my friend Mr. L., who was enabled lereby to spend seven or eight weeks with his friends. We move together on the most friendly ternis; and it will be a great grief to me, if Satan prevail to deter him from prosecuting his ministerial work.
“I have just received his answer, which sets my mind at rest respecting myself; for he speaks all that is kind and gratifying to my feelings, and thus far all is well. I should be sorry, indeed, if after moving in such sweet harmony and love with you, and dear Mr. Martyn, I had undergone such a change, as to render it difficult to move in concert with me. I would fondly hope, that my dispositions have not altered for the worse since you knew me: the mercies I have experienced would have been sadly thrown away, if this were the case; but I feel it good to entertain a godly jealousy over myself, even in matters where my conscience least accuses me, because I know how blind we are to our own failings, and how partial a monitor conscience is: and on this account I not only besought, but charged him * before God and the Lord Jesus Christ,* to tell me, if he saw anything in me that caused an unfavorable and painful impression on his mind: and it is a great comfort to me to have such strong assurances from him on this head. But for him I grieve exceedingly, because his views of himself are so gloomy and so discouraging. To you I say what I speak to no other human being, and therefore it is in perfect confidence: he has once been deranged; and for two years after he came to college, I fought shy of his- acquaintance on account of the visible remains of his disorder: and I should not wonder, if the malady were to return upon him. It is a fearful prospect: but I hope God will yet be gracious to him, and restore his rfind — to peace. I shall answer him as fully as I can, and endeavor to give the best direction to his views....
. My poor brother is a little better. He takes most kindly your friendly mention of him; and he charges me to present to you his very kind respects.
**. You have heard from dear Martyn, his disputations with the Mahometans, and thbir applications to the Father of the Moollahs to write a book on the evidences of the Mahometan religion. The day that such an appeal to reason shall receive the sanction of the priests, Mahometanism will receive a fatal blow. The Lord hasten it in his time! He has told you also his treatment at Shlraz, and the governor’s kind atteQtion to him; his escape also in not going with his fellow-traveller, who was attacked by wild Arabs. — What abundant reason have we to thjink our God in his behalf! I will now add a single line to my dear sister, and conclude.
...” Indeed, the idea that you and my dear brother would know, though at the distance x)f six months, how happy God had made her after all her afflictions, and how happy I am in my poor attempts to contribute to her happiness, — this idea, I say, is productive of much comfort to our minds. I am almost inclined to think, that both Mrs. D. and myself have more communion with you from day to day, than if you were only twenty miles off. You would scarcely conceive, but that you feel the same, how much the thought of you all contributes to our happiness. Yea, we already know as it were, and love your little one, and rejoice with you in such an acquisition. Give her seven kisses for me; seven is a perfect number, to denote the sincerity of my love. My kind love also to Esther and Jay. Believe me, my dearest sister,
“Most affectionately yours,
“C. Simeon.”
To the Rev. T. Thomason.
Highgate, Aug. 21, 1812.
” My dearest Brother, —
•’You will perceive, by the place from which I write, that I am on a visit to my poor invalid brother, and you will be surprised to hear, that we are to set off to-morrow to the Isle of Wight. This, I must confess, is no pleasure to me, because I think it is the most imprudent thing my poor brother can do; but suqh is human nature; he has got a place in point of beauty quite equal to St. John’s in the island, ana in point of magnificence incomparably beyond it; he has also roads on every side of him as smooth as a garden-walk, and can go fifteen miles on any side of him without fatigue, and yet he accounts it * a splendid prison,’ because he cannot run about like a man in the full vigor of youth. His heart is set on going to the island; and we had yesterday a council with Mr. Cline in the chair, and permission is given by the faculty for him to go; but this permission is rather with a view to reconcile him afterwards to stay contented here, than with any expectation of benefit from the present journey. He is to be at-S02 NEW ROOMS IN COLLSOE. [cHAP. XIV.
tended by one of his medical friends; for without that I coald not give my consent to his going.
i In all this we behold a striking portrait of human nature: God has given us innumerable blessings, but we are not satisfied; we set our hearts upon something that will do us harm, instead of thankfully enjoying what God has given us for our good; and, as in my brother’s case, a consciousness that we are acting unwisely robs us of one half the pleasure even of the anticipation; and it always adds a much greater pungency to the gall, with which every cup is in some degree mixed. I am glad 7 am with hiro, that I may watch over him during this perilous journey; but I should feel more happy, if his mind were to rally above all such considerations. We all are apt to have our minds too much attached to earthly things; but I think that this is a disadvantage particularly connected with late conversion, and with great worldly prosperity.
“I know not whether I have before told you, that after thirty years’ abode in my old rooms, I am going to change them; but when speaking on such a subject as the foregoing, it is highly proper that I should give you the reasons of my change. I was well contented to live and die there; but by the sudden death of Mr. P. rooms are come to me, which have a passage to every room, instead of the large room being a thoroughfare to the others. This to a person looking forward to a period of sickness and of death is of some importance; and it determined me to change my rooms; more especially, as I shall now have a servant’s room, and a solitary oratory on the roof; a walk where no eye, but that of the Supreme, can behold me. I have made considerable alterations in them, to which I was induced by an offer of my brother to aid in fitting them up, to the extent of £200, (this is entre nous for it has not been mentioned to a human being.) They are now made all that can be wished, and it is possible, that any person ignorant of my views may imagine that I am building my nest on high (for I am up two pair of stairs;) but I hope my views are towards another and a better world; I have long felt how little thib world can do for me, and I desire to be standing ready for that world to which I am hastening.”
<’ St John’s, Isle of Wight, August 2D.
My poor invalid brother and myself arrived here, by short stages, on Wednesday last; and he bore his journey far better than I expected. He was brought from the shore in a sheet by six men, and arrived without any material injury. Indeed God appeared to be most signally gracious to him; for we had fine weather all the way down; and on no day since could he possibly have crossed the water. Still however he feels exhausted, in a measure, by the efiforts which he has made to get hither; and I
am in hopes, that I shall be able to prevail upon him to leave the island early in next month, if there should be any favorable g weather for it, instead of waiting .till October, as he has hitherto intended.
“I had hoped that I should be able to express to you my sentiments about the picture of our most beloved and honored brother Martyn; but I have not yet been able to get it out of the ship, notwiths’tanding every effort made for that purpose. It is however no little joy to me to know that it has arrived safe; and I have given all the necessaiy orders about the framing of it, and sending it to Cambridge, where I hope to find it on my return. It is indeed an inestimable present; and I shall send the small one, which is in my possession, as a present to Mr. Charles Hoare, to whom it will be very acceptable....
What a treasure is that letter of Mr. Martyn to Mr. Corrle! A thousand thanks to you for sending me a copy of it. It affords just such a view of our beloved friend as I would have wished to see. When we have nothing to call forth particular feelings, we go on in the common jog-trot way; but on such an occasion as that, the heart shows itself in its true light; and there is in that letter an artless simplicity which I must admire. As for setting down to write a religious letter, it is what I cannot do myself; and what I do not very much admire, unless there be some particular occasion that calls for it. I love rather that a letter be a free and easy communication of such things as are upon the mind, and such as we imagine will interest the person with whom we correspond. Some indeed, who have a talent for letter-writing, may employ their pen profitably in the more direct and formal way; but it is a thing 1 cannot do; reliffion with me is only the salt with which I season the different subjects on which I write; and it is recommended in that view by St. Paul to be used in the whole of our converse with each other. Doubtless when the mind can soar, &nd we can dip our pen in angels’ ink, it is most delightful to prosecute the heavenly theme; but to sit down in cold blood and say, I must now write a religious letter, is to me an irksome task; or, rather, a task which I leave to those who have talents for it. In a word, religious communications are then ^, most delightful, when they proceed from the abundance of the / heart: but all the sweetness of them is taken away, when they ’ are constrained and formal.
‘* I told you in a former letter the plan I had for a course of sermons before the University, in case I should be nominated again this year: but the vice-chancellor (Dr. Browne of Christ’s College) says, he will not take the trouble of nominating preachers; so that during this year Mr. Heckford will have it all to himself. I thank the Lord that I feel not the smallest disappointment: if God had any work for me to do for Him in the University pulpit, he would soon put me there.”
“October 14, 1812.
g” Now let me go to another cause of joy scarcely inferior to the former. On Monday, the very same day that the people returned to a sense of their duty, I opened, and put up the picture of my ever dear and honored brotner, Mr. Martyn. I had indeed, after it was opened at the India-House, gone to see it there, and notwithstanding all that you had said respecting it to prepare my mind,^ I was so overpowered by the sight, that I could not bear to look upon it; but turned away and went to a distance, covering my face, and, in spite of every effort to the contrary, crying aloud with anguish: E. was with me; and all the bystanders said to her, * That I suppose is his father.’ And I think it probable, that if I had been his father, or his mother either, I should not have felt more than I did on the occasion. Shall J attempt to describe to you the veneration and the love with which I look at it? No words that I can write will convey an adequate idea; nothing but your own tender mind can exactly conceive what I feel. I remember (indeed can never forget) the look of a certain lady, when the thought of your going to India was last suggested to her. One might endeavor to describe the mixed emotions that were then depicted in her countenance: but it must have been seen in order to be understood and appreciated; so I should in vain attempt to describe what I feel, and trust I shall long continue to feel, in looking on that image of my beloved friend. In seeing how much he is worn I am constrained to call to ny relief the thought, in whose service he has worn himself so much: and this reconciles me to the idea of weakness, of sickness, or even, if God were so to appoint, of death itself. As for your abuse of the painters device to represent India, I do not at all agree with you: it is done as well as I wish it: and the portrait itself cannot, I think, be excelled.* I behold in it all the mind of my honored brother: and if a thousand guineas had been sent me instead of it, they would really and trulyh lighter than the dust upon the balance in comparison of it. Pardon me if I say, that in the two portraits I seem to have the wealth of the Indies.
I have had some of my hair taken off, that I may send him a
fair of sleeve-buttons, to wear in the remembrance oPone whom e has obliged beyond all that language can express.’
To the Rev. T. Thomason.
“Fitzroy Fann, Dec. 14, 1812.
” My dearest Brother, —
“Here I arrived three days ago to attend my beloved brother in his last hours, which are now drawing fast to a close. The state of his body has not admitted of much conversation with him; but the little I have had has been very comfortmg to my
* This picture was bequeathed by Mr. Simeon Co the chancellor and Kholan of the. Univerrity of Cambridge; and is now placed in the University library.
soul. The first words he said to me were, * I know that my Redeemer liveth; and in Him, as dying and interceding for me, is all my hope. I am much more comfortable than’ heretofore.’ What can I wish for more than this, except that I myself may have the same blessed hope in a dyin hour? Have I not reason to bless God for my own illness, which occasioned my long abode ’ with him, and was accessory, I trust, to his eternal Welfare? Yes, I bless God for it: and hope my own soul also shall not be without some benefit resulting from it
Dear Mr. Martyn has been at death’s door, at Tebriz, and is cominff home for his health. O, that God may spare his valuable life. You may be well assured, that many hours will not intervene between his arrival on shore, and my most anxious endeavors to promote his welfare. In whatever place he shall judge best for his complaint, I shall be most thankful to have the honor of ministering to him
“Our Anniversary at Cambridge was on Thursday last; and not a whit behind our last year’s meeting. Mr. Cunningham came in the place of Mr. Owen, and was more judicious, and quite as eloquent Mr. Steinkopff isVeturned from the Continent, whither he has been to visit the foreign societies; but was not with us, having arrived but a few days.
“The letter of Mr. Martyn to Mr. Corrie, which you sent me, is one of the most interesting letters that was ever penned. I have shown it to many fellows of his college, Messrs. Wood, Catton, Hornbuckle, Whitfield, Fawcett, and it has caused much % sympathy among them. Indeed, my correspondence with Mr. Martyn enables me from time to time to communicate to them some intelligence respecting him, and brings them much nearer to me than they would otherwise be.”