It was on April 22, 1806, at sunrise, that the young chaplain landed from the surf-boat on the sands of Madras. His experience at San Salvador had prepared him for the scene, and even for the crowds of dark natives, though not for 'the elegance of their manners.' 'I felt a solemn sort of melancholy at the sight of such multitudes of idolators. While the turbaned Asiatics waited upon us at dinner, about a dozen of them, I could not help feeling as if we had got into their places.' He visited the native suburb in which his Hindustani-speaking servants dwelt, and was depressed by its 'appearance of wretchedness.' His soul was filled with the zeal of the Old Testament prophets against idolatry, the first sight of which--of men, women, and children, mad upon their idols--produces an impression which he does not exaggerate: 'I fancy the frown of God to be visible.' He lost not a day in commending his Master to the people. 'Had a good deal of conversation with a Rajpoot about religion, and told him of the Gospel.' The young natives pressed upon the new-comer as usual. 'Rose early, but could not enjoy morning meditations in my walk, as the young men would attach themselves to me.' He was much in the society of the Rev. Dr. Kerr[21] and the other Madras chaplains; one of these was about to proceed to Seringapatam, where Martyn urged him to 'devote himself to the work of preaching to the natives.' This was ever foremost in his thoughts. He spent days in obtaining from Dr. Kerr 'a vast deal of information about all the chaplains and missionaries in the country, which he promised to put in writing for me.' Schwartz was not then dead ten years, and Dr. Kerr, who had known him and Guericke well, gave his eager listener many details of the great missionary. Felt excessively delighted with accounts of a very late date from Bengal, describing the labours of the missionaries, and was rather agitated at the confusion of interesting thoughts that crowded upon me; but I reasoned, Why thus? God may never honour you with a missionary commission; you must expect to leave the field, and bid adieu to the world and all its concerns. On his first Sunday in India, April 27, 1806, Henry Martyn assisted in the service in the church at Fort St. George, and preached from Luke x. 41, 42, 'One thing is needful.' There was much attention, and Lord William sent to Dr. Kerr afterwards to request a copy of the sermon; but I believe it was generally thought too severe. After dinner, went to Black Town to Mr. Loveless's chapel. I sat in the air at the door enjoying the blessed sound of the Gospel on an Indian shore, and joining with much comfort in the song of divine praise. With young Torriano I had some conversation respecting his entering the ministry, as he spoke the Malabar tongue fluently. Walked home at night enjoying the presence of God.