these symptoms are produced by the evening of every day. He is sparing in his food &c., as usual, but takes sufficient nourishment, although, he says, with little appetite, but from a sense of necessity. I think you will consider immediate relaxation necessary, as I do, and have urged so repeatedly, and in such a variety of ways, that any one but himself would think I wanted to succeed him here. But that to me would be one of the painful circumstances attending his removal. I think the wisdom and goodness of God evident in my former appointment and in my present destination. I can do a little in a quiet way for the furtherance of our common cause, but this large station would both occupy my whole time and make my deficiencies more conspicuous. “Aug. 1st. My heart is seldom so much at ease as I wish it to be when I write to you. Our dear brother will not believe that he is in any danger; nor is it likely he will die immediately. A little care makes him feel better, and now he hesitates about going on the river at present. He has for some days been from morning till night with Sabat at the Arabic, getting ready the first seven chapters of Matthew: when that is done he is going on with Fitrut in Genesis. I wish it had been convenient for you to come up; you could have taken him back with you, _vi et armis_: but that is past. He speaks of himself as threatened with consumption, with all the composure others speak of a legacy; but thinks it is not yet begun in him. The failure of his voice, and his poor thin frame, make me fear the worst; and I tell him freely my chief hope of a cure in him is from a removal from this [place] and cessation from labour immediately. “I can write you of nothing else at present. This subject occupies most of my thoughts; I dare not dwell upon the probable issue. But we may ‘have all things and abound,’ whilst we have our God and Saviour. That hymn I sang with a heavy heart, when I first left your paternal roof for Chunar; and daily find it suitable. The ‘sin that dwelleth in me’ makes my life heavy; and but for the invisible hand, I should entirely faint, or ‘become a rebuke unto the foolish.’” TO THE REV. J. BUCKWORTH. “Cawnpore, Aug. 16, 1810.