_Sept. 24._--Nothing of any striking moment relative to our situation has occurred since the last date: all is quiet. Yet circumstances have taken place of the deepest interest, which makes my soul rejoice in God. In a packet of letters, I received the other day from India and Bussorah, was one from a person whom I met here, a gay thoughtless officer in the army, who seems now really seeking for light and life. Of this I am sure, that with that soul, it never can be again as in times past; the name of Christ will either be a savour of life unto life, or of death unto death. Oh! how strange a thing here does a consciousness of divine life in the soul appear, and how affecting is it to receive that news fresh from the heart of one who has seen, in spiritual things, men as trees walking. May the Lord complete what he has begun, and make his recovered child a burning and a shining light in that land of darkness, where he sojourns. This intelligence comes too at a very acceptable time, for I have had a slight attack of fever for these last ten days, which, though it is not worth mentioning, has, like all fevers, left me weak, and with a tendency to depression. Nor is this all the good the Lord has done me. The Roman Catholic merchant whom I mentioned before, has been again with me. He told me, that when I came from England I brought a letter for him, which is true, from a very dear friend, in which he was requested to come every day to see me, and talk with me, for I was neither a Roman Catholic, a Greek, an Armenian, nor belonging to any other denomination, but a Christian. He, however, never came. Shortly after my arrival I met him at the house of another merchant, and as I could not talk with him, my dear brother Pfander did; but nothing could exceed the timid reserve and coldness with which he answered all questions respecting religion. But yesterday he told me, "Now I do not fear to converse with you." Surely here is something gained. May the Lord grant me grace to pour in the sincere milk of the word. At present I see nothing more than a willingness to hear and consider; but this is almost like finding a spring in the desert, when you are parched with thirst.