_Aug. 19._ _Friday._--Every thing seems darkening in this wretched city. Numbers of poor people are crying at the gates to be let out, that they may not be starved in the city; but they will not let them go. All the necessaries of life have risen to five times their usual price, and the pressure of this is increased tenfold by the time at which it has occurred. The bricklayers, carpenters, every trade has entirely ceased its occupations in the city since the commencement of the plague; so that all day-labourers, such as weavers and others, are thrown out of their employments, and without means of gaining their bread. In addition to this, the Arabs are breaking into every house where they expect to find a little corn or rice, so that it is a difficult choice either to be without provisions in danger of starving, or of being broken in upon by such ruffians, and stripped. We intend to bury a little box, containing some rice, and flour, and dates, under ground, that in the event of their breaking in, we may yet secure food for a few days, which may give us time to look about. The Lord, however, is very gracious, and will not try us above our strength, but will magnify his grace even in these scenes of trial and distress. The care of my dear little dying baby has taken my mind much off from dwelling on the distressing position in which we are, and, for aught I at present see, are likely to continue in, for those within the town feel it is their heads for which they are contending, and will therefore hold out to the very last. Yet in this whirlwind the Lord rides and reigns, and no part of the mystical body of Christ, however humble the member, will ever be forgotten: on this we rest and wait for light and deliverance.