[8] A substance like liquid pitch, supposed to be produced by subterranean fire.
CHAPTER X.
He arrived the next morning at Shiraz, the capital of the Persian empire. His first object was to ascertain from those best skilled in the language, how well Sabat’s Persian translation would be understood by the people. Finding that their opinion was against it, he, in a little more than a week after his arrival, undertook the task anew, with the assistance of Mirza Seid Ali Khan, who belonged to the sect called Soofees. Whilst engaged in this work, he was visited constantly by learned Persians, who argued with him respecting the Christian religion and Mohammedism. But their prejudices in favour of their sensual creed were too strong to yield to mere arguments. Some of them were Jews who had become Mussulmans; a very frequent change, as every such convert is rewarded with a new dress, by the prince.—The condition of these wandering descendants of Abraham, greatly excited his sympathy. On one occasion “while walking in the garden, in some disorder from vexation, two Mussulman Jews came up, and asked me what would become of them in another world? the Mohammedans were right in their way, they supposed, and we in ours; but what must they expect? After rectifying their mistake as to the Mohammedans, I mentioned two or three reasons for believing that we are right: such as their dispersion, and the cessation of sacrifices, immediately on the appearance of Jesus. ‘True, true,’ they said, with great feeling and seriousness; indeed, they seemed disposed to yield assent to any thing I said. They confessed they had become Mohammedans only on compulsion; and that Abdoolghunee wished to go to Bagdad, thinking he might throw off the mask there with safety;—but asked, what I thought? I said that the governor was a Mohammedan. ‘Did I think Syria safer?’ ‘The safest place in the east,’ I said, ‘was India.’ Feelings of pity for God’s ancient people, and having the awful importance of eternal things impressed on my mind, by the seriousness of their inquiries as to what would become of them, relieved me from the pressure of my comparatively insignificant distresses. I, a poor Gentile, blest, honoured, and loved, secured for ever by the everlasting covenant, whilst the children of the kingdom are still lying in outward darkness! Well does it become me to be thankful.”
Mr. Martyn did not discourage the love of disputation manifested by the natives, hoping it might open the way for impressing the truth, and finding that his assistant had already become interested in the gospel history. But in consequence of his removing from the city to the suburbs, that he might enjoy a pleasant garden and a purer air, he was not so much in the way of interruption, and his visiters became less numerous. In that retirement, by the side of a clear stream, and amidst vines and orange trees, he devoted himself constantly to the completion of his important task.
The curiosity and interest with which the missionary was regarded, was not confined to a few private individuals of Shiraz. The Professor of Mohammedan law agreed to hold a public dispute with him, and we abridge the account of the meeting as given by Mr. Martyn, that our readers may have an idea of the kind of arguments used in favour of the imposture of Mohammed, and against the truth of the gospel.
“He talked for a full hour about the soul: its being distinct from the body, superior to the brutes, &c.; about God, his unity, invisibility, and other obvious and acknowledged truths. After this followed another discourse. At length, after clearing his way for miles around, he said, ‘that philosophers had proved, that a single being could produce but a single being; that the first thing God had created was Wisdom,—a being perfectly one with him; after that, the souls of men, and the seventh heaven; and so on, till he produced matter, which is merely passive.’ He illustrated the theory, by comparing all being to a circle: at one extremity of the diameter is God, at the opposite extremity of the diameter is matter, than which, nothing in the world is meaner. Rising from thence, the highest stage of matter is connected with the lowest stage of vegetation; the highest of the vegetable world, with the lowest of the animal, and so on, till we approach the point from which all proceeded. ‘But,’ said he, ‘you will observe, that next to God, something ought to be, which is equal to God; for since it is equally near, it possesses equal dignity. What this is, philosophers are not agreed upon. ‘You,’ said he, ‘say it is Christ: but we, that it is the Spirit of the Prophets. All this is what the philosophers have proved, independently of any particular religion.’ There were a hundred things in the Professor’s harangue, that might have been excepted against, as mere dreams, supported by no evidence; but I had no inclination to call in question dogmas, on the truth or falsehood of which, nothing in religion depended.
“The Professor, at the close of one of his long speeches, said to me, ‘You see how much there is to be said on these subjects; several visits will be necessary; we must come to the point by degrees.’ Perceiving how much he dreaded a close discussion, I did not mean to hurry him, but let him talk on, not expecting we should have any thing about Mohammedism the first night. But at the instigation of the Jew, I said, ‘Sir, you see that Abdoolghunee is anxious that you should say something about Islam.’[9] He was much displeased at being brought so prematurely to the weak point, but could not decline accepting so direct a challenge. ‘Well,’ said he to me, ‘I must ask you a few questions. Why do you believe in Christ?’—He then enumerated the persons who had spoken of the miracles of Mohammed, and told a long story about Salmon, the Persian, who had come to Mohammed. I asked, ‘whether this Salmon had written an account of the miracles he had seen?’ He confessed that he had not. ‘Nor,’ said I, ‘have you a single witness to the miracles of Mohammed.’ He then tried to show, that though they had not, there was still sufficient evidence. ‘For,’ said he, ‘suppose five hundred persons should say that they heard some particular thing of a hundred persons who were with Mohammed,—would that be sufficient evidence, or not?’ ‘Whether it be or not,’ said I, ‘you have no such evidence as that, nor any thing like it; but if you have, as they are something like witnesses, we must proceed to examine them, and see whether their testimony deserves credit.’
“After this, the Koran was mentioned; but as the company began to thin, and the great man had not a sufficient audience before whom to display his eloquence, the dispute was not so brisk. He did not, indeed, seem to think it worth while to notice my objections. He mentioned a well known sentence in the Koran, as being inimitable. I produced another sentence, and begged to know why it was inferior to the Koranic one. He declined saying why, under pretext that it required such a knowledge of rhetoric, in order to understand his proofs, as I probably did not possess. A scholar afterwards came to Seid Ali, with twenty reasons for preferring Mohammed’s sentence to mine.”
“It was midnight when dinner, or rather supper, was brought in: it was a sullen meal. The great man was silent, and I was sleepy. Seid Ali, however, had not had enough. While burying his hand in the dish of the professor, he softly mentioned some more of my objections. He was so vexed, that he scarcely answered any thing; but after supper, told a very long story, all reflecting upon me.”