"Walking out into a village where the boat stopped for the night I found the worshipers of Kali by the sound of their drums and cymbals. Invited by the Brahmins to walk in I entered and asked a few questions about the idol. The Brahmin who spoke bad Hindoostanee disputed with great heat, and his tongue ran faster than I could follow, and the people, about one hundred, shouted applause. I continued my questions and among other things asked if what I had heard of Vishnu and Brahma was true, which he confessed. I forbore to press him with the consequences, which he seemed to feel; and then I told him what was my belief. The man grew quite mild and said it was _chula bat_ (good words), and asked me seriously at last what I thought, 'Was idol worship true or false?' I felt it a matter of thankfulness that I could make known the truth of God though a stammerer and that I had declared it in the presence of the devil. And this also I learnt, that the power of gentleness is irresistible. I never was more astonished than at the change in deportment of this hot-headed Brahmin.... Came to on the eastern bank below a village called Ahgadup. Wherever I walked the women fled at the sight of me. Some men were sitting under the shed dedicated to their goddess; a lamp was burning in her place. A conversation soon began, but there was no one who could speak Hindoostanee. I could only speak by the medium of my Mussulman, Musalchee. They said that they only did as others did, and that if they were wrong then all Bengal was wrong. I felt love for their souls, and longed for utterance to declare unto these poor simple people the holy gospel. I think that when my mouth is opened I shall preach to them day and night.