ing him to the grave. Carrying the corpse of a brother on our shoulders, I suppose, would shock any European who should hear of it; but the natives said, "This was great love, and show. ed that we did not forsake those who joined themselves unto us, even to the last!" We sung at the grave: brother Marshman spoke to many spectators, and I prayed.

July 14th. The young man, named Soroop, made an excuse, and left us. We had some hopes of him, and regret his departure. In order to get more satisfaction respecting the conversion of this young man, and the lame brahmin, who has been here some weeks, we had put off their baptism. He was discouraged; was found crying about it, and has thus left us. Sheetaram arrived a day or two ago, bringing a man with him. His school, he says, contains nineteen scholars: the school-master is inquiring se riously, he thinks. Many people, he says, wish to see one of us over there.

August 11th. This day a letter arrived from a person of conse quence with Dulol. Dulol's servant brought it. It contains six queries about the truth of the Hindoo Bades and Obatars; the origin of men's actions; the reason of sorrow; the reason why sin exists in the world of a God who could have prevented it; whether we know of any way to God without dying; and about the way of Jesus Christ. This day, Krishno Presaud, and Ram Rotton, went to new houses, which they have built, with our assistance, upon the mission burying-ground. Nobody would let them have an inch of ground on the earth, if they could help it. We had agreed with one man for a place for Rotton; but it was no sooner known who it was for, than the man refused to ratify it. Brethren Marshman and Carey held a prayer-meeting at these new houses, early this morning. The Hindoos purify a new house by a poojah, and by daubing it with cow-dung. We dedicated the house of our friends by prayer. Oh, that God may dwell amongst them!

August 18th. This week a letter arrived, announcing that our brethren left England on the third of January last. Several other letters, by the ships just come, have been received. We are full of thought how we are to find room and food for so large a family! We are now increased to seventy; added to which, we have sometimes ten or more native brethren with us. Ten more brethren from England will make us ninety, or thereabouts. A letter informs us that Dulol's friend was arrived at Serampore, and that he would come to see us.

August 20th. This day we received a letter as long as a coun

sellor's brief, and as puzzling too, from Dulol's friend. We have been looking at a place at the next door, which is on sale. Without a greater income, either from home, or from our own labours, we cannot go on.

August 22d. This evening I was witness to a missionary conflict, such a one as I never saw before. Soroop's father came to fetch away his son, I will try to describe this most affecting scene.

I was sitting among our native brethren, at the Bengalee school, hearing them read and explain a portion of the word in turn; when an aged grey-headed brahmin, well dressed, came in; and, standing before me, said, with joined hands, and a supplicating tone of voice, "Sahib! I am come to ask an alms." Beginning to weep, he repeated these words hastily; "I am come to ask an....an alms." He continued standing, with his hands in a supplicating posture, weeping. I desired him to say what alms; and told him, that, by his looks, it did not seem as if he wanted any relief. At length, being pressed, he asked me to give him his son, pointing with his hands into the midst of our native brethren. I asked which was his son? He pointed to a young brahmin, named Soroop; and, setting up a plaintive cry, said, that was his son. We tried to comfort him, and at last prevailed upon him to come and sit down upon the veranda. Here he began to weep again; and said that the young man's mother was dying with grief, that her time was come; and that if he could but go back and see his mother, he should, after that, return hither, or stay there, just as he pleased. I asked his name, and place of abode. He said, he lived about twenty-eight miles off, mentioning the name of the village; that he had six sons, &c. He said that Soroop had quarrelled with his brother, and in consequence had come hither. I told him, that Soroop, since his coming, had been away once, when we did not hinder him; and that now it should be as his son liked. He was overcome at these words, threw himself prostrate at my feet, and with tears thanked me for these words. I prevailed upon him to rise, and tried to assuage his grief. I told him, however, that his son had now be gan to think about Christ, and was learning the way to heaven; that if he took him back into Hindooism, he would be leading him down to hell; and how could he bear to think of leading his son to hell? He repeated it, that he would not compel his son to stay, if he would but go and see his mother. I then proposed, that at any rate, Soroop should stay all night, that his mind might become calm, and that he might pray for divine direction; and that then, in the morning, if he would come, and if Soroop wish

He again urged and if he would

ed to go with him, we would not hinder him. that his poor old mother was dying of grief but go-and if he did not like to stay, he might write a deed of separation for the preservation of their cast, and that then he might do as he liked. He seemed reluctant to put it off till morning. I told him that his son was not a child, otherwise he might command him; but that he was now a man, and ought to choose his religion for himself. He acknowledged the propriety of this, and said it was not in his power to use force over him now.

Soroop is about twenty years of age. His father is what is called a Gosaic, or great Goroo, who has many followers. This man had four or five disciples with him. He wore two malas, (or necklaces), one of which had large beads, made of the wood of the sacred Toolse tree. He has a number of disciples at Serampore.

The father, at length, called the son aside, and set up a great cry, weeping over him, and supplicating him. When they returned to our company, after a good deal of argument, the old man was at length persuaded, though with much reluctance, to leave him for the night. I was much afraid that the tenderness and excessive grief of the old man would overcome Soroop; but he seemed resolved not to go; and when his father was going out, Soroop went up to Bydenaut, one of our aged brethren, and fell at his feet, and laid hold of his hands, telling him he would not go with his father; for that if he did, he should go to hell. He seemed afraid that we should send him away. Going out at the school door into the road, I found that the old man had fallen down, in an agony of grief, at the door, and that one or two of his disciples were holding him up, endeavouring to persuade him to rise and go with them. I also tried to moderate his grief, and at length he got up, and followed his disciples.

Soroop and other brethren accompanied me to our house, when he acknowledged to me, with apparent sorrow, that he had told lies in trying to conceal his family and name; but he seemed very earnest not to go back. Bydenaut told me, that, after we were gone, the father came back again to the school, full of distress, &c. Brother Marshman, after family prayer, took Soroop aside, and talked and prayed with him; he wept much, and seemed very much to dread the thought of going home. Our brethren will talk more with him, when he goes to night to the school; and thus we must leave it, and see what the morning will bring forth. How difficult, in such a case, to love Christ better than father and mother! Nothing but the idea of the apostle

could make a person, in such a distressing case, give advice not to go. "Let him know, that he who turneth a sinner from the error of his ways, saveth a soul from DEATH!"*

August 23d. I find that the old man, after leaving the schoolhouse last night, went to our Sirkar, fell at his feet, and besought his help. This morning a number of people were assembled at the school with Soroop's father; but the son persisted that he would not go now, but said he would go soon, meaning after he should have been baptized. At length a person, who seemed to be a friend of the old man's, asked whether Soroop had eaten among our brethren? They said, Yes. Finding, therefore, that he would not go, and that he had really lost cast, they were constrained to depart. Yet the old man said that he would not return without him, but would lie down, and die at Serampore.

August 29th. A man, bringing a printed tract with him, arrived after a journey of four or five days, from a part of Jessore. He says, he is sent by a body of people, who are in the same way as Boodoyesah was. Their goroo is called a Lăro. All casts eat together secretly, and reject the debtahs. He says, he came once before, and could not find us; and that this time also some illnatured person deceived him, and carried him across the water, and into the country on the other side, to prevent his coming to our house. This day week the young brahmin, named Ramdhon, ran away from us. I suppose he thought there was no hope of his baptism: we could not well encourage him.

September 1st. This evening Ram Kaunt, Hawnye, and Soroop came before the church, and were received. Yesterday it was resolved, that Bhoyerub must be excluded: two or three others were interdicted from the Lord's table.

September 10th. There has been, for this week or two, much sickness, and very many deaths, all around us. It is attributed to the sultry weather, and the want of rain: a much smaller quantity has fallen, this rainy season, than usual. Thank God, we have been preserved, though one or two of the scholars have fevers. One youth has been under much concern in his affliction. I have waited on him a good deal in his sickness. Last week he asked me to pray with him. I did so, and found a good degree of liberty. He followed, and was overwhelmed with tears, and earnest cries for divine mercy. After prayer was over, I talked to him, and opened the way of life; but he said, he was afraid he There was reason to believe, we doubt not, that the mother's illness was only a pretence to draw the son back to idolatry. 3 N

VOL. II.

had sinned too much. He was a good deal struck with a private address which brother Marshman made to him a few nights ago, and with the death of Toplady, which I lately read to the boys. I suppose, however, the gradual light he has received, has contributed more to his convictions, in connexion with his sickness, than any private exercise. I read, at his request, Psalm li. and Isaiah xlix.

September 24th. This day, Nazir Mahomed, the man mentioned August 29, returned with a letter, as from the people with whom he is connected. He says, they want one of us to go and live there, and teach them. They are afraid of an open profession, without some protector among them.

October 2d. This morning, Felix, Bydenaut, &c. set off in two small boats, on a journey into Burdwan; a new route, where the gospel never went before. Nazir Mahomed this day went away, rather angrily, saying he would not come again. A man came this afternoon to be instructed; got a few pence to go and eat his dinner, and, instead of going to the school for instruction, as he professed, he went away without notice.

October 9th. The same man this day came again, with a letter from Petumber Singgu. He now applied for leave to be there a short time for instruction: we granted his request, and he returned to Sooksaugur.

October 14th. Lord's day. Last Friday afternoon I went to the house of our brother Peroo, accompanied by our native brethren, and spoke to a few Portuguese. It is not as in England, that you can speak in the house of a brother. Here you can only preach at the house; for the house is too low and confined to hold any body, except the two or three persons of the family; and the house is too sacred, being the asylum of the women, for strangers to enter indiscriminately. This morning early, Felix, Fernandez, Caleb Hirons, Krishno Presaud, Ram Rotton, Ram Mohun, Roop, and I, went down to Calcutta in the mission-boat. I spoke in the forenoon in English: in the afternoon at four, we had Bengalee preaching for the first time. First, we sung, then Ram Rotton prayed, then we sung again, then Krishno Presaud preached an excellent sermon on the way of salvation; then singing, then prayer by Ram Mohun. We had between thirty and forty Hindoos, Musselmen, and Portuguese; and two or three Europeans. A brahmin boldly preaching the gospel, on the day five years after we had landed in this country-at Calcutta, the capital of Bengal, and the seat of the government of the company-a brahmin too, avowing his own conversion, and preaching, to the