“I do not know how you find the heat, but here it is dreadful: in one person’s quarters yesterday it was at 102°: perhaps it was on that account that scarcely any women came. Another reason I assign is, that I rebuked one of them last Sunday, yet very gently, for talking and laughing in the church before I came; so yesterday they showed their displeasure by not coming at all. I spoke to them on the parable of the Great Supper: the old woman, who is always so exemplary in her attention, shed many tears; I have sometimes endeavoured to speak to her, but she declines conversation. I feel interested about her, there is so much sorrow and meekness depicted in her countenance; but she always crosses herself after the service is over. My Europeans, this week, have not attended very well; fifteen only, instead of twenty-five; some of them, indeed, are in the hospital; and the hospital is a town of itself;—how shall I ever be faithful to them all!”
“Among the events of the last week is the earthquake; we were just reading the passage of the 24th of Matthew, on ‘earthquakes in divers places,’ when I felt my chair shake under me; then some pieces of the plaster fell; on which I sprang up and ran out;—the doors had still a tremulous motion.”
“I groan at the wickedness and infidelity of men, and seem to stretch my neck every way to espy a righteous man. All at Dinapore treat the gospel with contempt; here there is nothing but infidelity.”
“A young civilian, who some time ago came to me desiring satisfaction on the evidences of Christianity, and to whom I spoke very freely, and with some regard, as I could not doubt his sincerity, now holds me up to ridicule. Thus, through evil report, we go on. Oh! my brother! how happy I feel, that all have not forsaken Christ; that I am not left alone even in India. ‘Cast thy burden on the Lord, and he shall sustain thee,’ is the text I carry about with me, and I can recommend it to any body as an infallible preservative from the fever of anxiety.”
“The day after I wrote to you from Bankipore, I called on the Nawaub,[6] Babir Ali Khan, celebrated for his sense and liberality. I staid two hours with him, conversing in Persian, but badly. He began the theological discussion by requesting me to explain necessity and free-will; I instantly pleaded ignorance. He gave his own opinion; on which I asked him for his proofs of the religion of Mohammed. His first argument was the eloquence of the Koran; but he at last acknowledged that this was insufficient. I then brought forward a passage or two in the Koran, containing sentiments manifestly false and foolish; he flourished a good deal, but concluded by saying, that I must wait till I could speak Persian better, and had read their logic. This was the first visit, and I returned highly delighted with his sense, candour, and politeness. Two days after I went to breakfast with him, and conversed with him in Hindoostanee. He inquired what are the principles of the Christian religion; I began with the atonement, the divinity of Christ, the corruption of human nature, the necessity of regeneration, and a holy life. He seems to wish to acquire information, but discovers no spiritual desire after the truth.”
“I mentioned to you that I had spoken very plainly to the women last Sunday, on the delusions of the papists: yesterday only seven came. I ascribed it to what I had said; but to-day Sabat tells me that they pour contempt upon it all. Sabat, instead of comforting and encouraging me in my disappointments and trials, aggravates my pain by contemptuous expressions of the perfect inutility of continuing to teach them. He may spare his sarcastic remarks; as I suppose, after another Sunday, none at all will come. I find no relief but in prayer: to God I can tell all my griefs, and find comfort.”
“One day this week, on getting up in the morning, I was attacked with a very serious illness. I thought I was leaving this world of sorrow; and, praised be the God of grace, I felt no fear. The rest of the day I was filled with sweet peace of mind, and had near access to God in prayer. What a debt of love and praise do we owe! Yesterday I attempted to examine the women who attended (in number about thirty,) in Christian knowledge; they were very shy, and said that they could say no prayers but in Portuguese. It appears that they were highly incensed, and went away, saying to Joseph, ‘We know a great deal more than your priest himself.’ The services much weakened me after my late attack.”
“The men are fast dying in the hospital, yet they would rather be sent to Patna for some holy oil, than hear the word of eternal life. Two or three of my evening hearers are in the hospital; one is prepared to die: blessed sight! The Persian of St. Mark is to be sent to-morrow, and five chapters of Luke, corrected. There is no news from down the stream; but always glad tidings for us from the world above.”
The following is from a letter to his sister, in England:
“I am sorry that I have not good accounts to give of my health; yet no danger is to be apprehended. My services on the Lord’s day always leave me a pain in the chest, and such a great degree of general relaxation, that I seldom recover from it till Tuesday. A few days ago I was attacked with a fever, which, by the mercy of God, lasted but two days. I am now well, but must be more careful for the future. In this debilitating climate, the mortal tabernacle is frail indeed: my mind seems as vigorous as ever, but my delicate frame soon calls for relaxation; and I must give it, though unwillingly; for such glorious fields for exertion open all around, that I could with pleasure be employed from morning to night. It seems a providential circumstance, that the work at present assigned me is that of translation; for had I gone through the villages, preaching, as my intention led me to do, I fear that by this time I should have been in a deep decline. In my last I gave you a general idea of my employments. The society still meet every night at my quarters, and though we have lost many by death, others are raised up in their room; one officer, a lieutenant, is also given to me; and he is not only a brother beloved, but a constant companion and nurse; so you must feel no apprehension that I should be left alone in sickness; neither on any other account should you be uneasy. You know that we must meet no more in this life: therefore, since we are, as I trust, both children of God by faith in Jesus Christ, it becomes a matter of less consequence when we leave this earth. Of the spread of the gospel in India, I can say little, because I hear nothing. Adieu, my dearest sister: let us live in constant prayer, for ourselves, and for the church.”