“Wednesday. Were disappointed in our expectation, by a strong current which set us so far to the westward that we were obliged to tack, and wait for the sea-breeze, which to our great joy sprang up about three o’clock; and brought us into Madras roads, where we cast anchor exactly at ten at night. Yesterday morning the air was much impregnated with the flavour of the productions of Asia, having a smell like the sickly smell arising from sweetmeats. The entrance into the roads was very delightful: the light-house before us, the European residents’ houses on the left, showing lights from various quarters; the Nabob of Arcot’s palace lighted so as to appear brilliantly illuminated. All these were pleasing objects to eyes accustomed to look only upon the wide extended ocean for four months past. The striking of clocks, too, was most gratifying to the ear. My mind was much affected with a sense of the Divine goodness, in bringing us thus far in safety and peace. As soon as we were anchored, two boats came from Admiral Trowbridge for despatches; and a _Catamaran_,[8] with three natives charged with letters from the Town-major to the Commanding Officer. These natives presented a most disgusting appearance to a stranger, especially an European stranger. They have no covering, save a small piece of cotton round their waists; and a cap, like a fool’s cap, of fine basketwork, in which they carry their letters: and, being entire strangers to our language, my mind was affected with dismay and horror. Retiring to my cabin, despondency almost overcame me. My native country, with its healthy climate, and hospitable inhabitants, came forcibly to my mind. Those loved objects seemed for ever gone: dear relatives for ever fled! In exchange, a sickly climate, a burning soil, a heathen population, were to be my associates. Alas! how these considerations depress my spirits, while a sense of my own unfitness to encounter any of these obstacles, leads me to consider this as a place of banishment, and an untimely burial-ground! Yet have I not freely chosen this undertaking? And, has not God power to bring me through? And, is He not sovereign of Asia, as well as of Europe? And, is He not ready to save here, as there? O my foolish, unbelieving heart! I see the truth of these suggestions; yet unbelief prevents me from taking the comfort of them. O Lord, work faith in my heart; and enable me to glorify thee by a firm reliance on thy promise, that thou wilt not leave me, but wilt make me ‘more than conqueror through Him that loved me,’ even Jesus thy Son: to whom with Thee and the Holy Ghost be glory for ever!