“I left Rangoon last August, and arrived in Calcutta on the twenty-second of September. My disorder gained ground so rapidly, that nothing but a voyage at sea, and the benefit of a cold climate, presented the least hope of life. You will readily imagine that nothing but the prospect of a final separation would have induced us to decide on this measure, under circumstances so trying as those in which we were placed. But duty to God, to ourselves, to the Board of Missions, and to the perishing Burmans, compelled us to adopt this course of procedure, though agonizing _to all the natural feelings_ of our hearts. On my arrival in Calcutta, inquiries were immediately made relative to a voyage to America. But, to my great disappointment, I found most of the American captains far from being disposed to take passengers, on account of having their cargoes engaged to the extent of the tonnage of their vessels. One captain, however, offered to give me a passage for fifteen hundred rupees, but I could not think of causing the Board so great an expense. In mentioning my circumstances to Mrs. Thomason, (lady of the Rev. Mr. Thomason, chaplain,) she suggested the advantages of a voyage to England, on account of the superior accommodations, medical advice, and female passengers in English ships. The pious captain of a ship bound to England was then residing in her family; with him she consulted, and they made arrangements for my passage for five hundred rupees, provided I went in a cabin with three children, who were going to England. As my only object in going to sea is restoration of health, I did not hesitate to secure a passage, though I should have rejoiced (since I must take a long voyage) to have gone direct to America. The father of the children has since arrived in Calcutta, and has very kindly offered to pay the whole price of the cabin (which is four thousand rupees), which will enable me to go to England, free of expense to the Board. If the pain in my side is entirely removed while on my passage to Europe, I shall return to India in the same ship, and proceed immediately to Rangoon. But if not, I shall go over to America, and spend one winter in my dear native country. As ardently as I long to see my beloved friends in America, I can not prevail on myself to be any longer from Rangoon than is absolutely necessary for the preservation of my life. I have had a severe struggle relative to my _immediate_ return to Rangoon, instead of going to England. But I did not venture to go contrary to the convictions of reason, to the opinion of an eminent and skilful physician, and the repeated injunctions of Mr. Judson.”