“Finally we did reach Masulipatam, and I left the ship on the 18th of March, twelve weeks after embarking at Rangoon. I waited at Masulipatam a few days, until it was ascertained that the ship would unlade her cargo, and remain several months. And as there was no prospect that season of reaching Madras by sea, the only port on the coast where I could hope to find a vessel bound to Rangoon, I was under the necessity of taking a journey by land—distance about three hundred miles. I accordingly hired a palanquin and bearers, and arrived here the 8th of April. My first aim was, of course, the beach, and my first inquiry a vessel bound to Rangoon. But my chapter of disappointments was not yet finished. No vessel had sailed for Rangoon this year, and such, it was understood, was the unsettled state of the Burman country, that none would probably venture for some time to come. “Here I have remained ever since, under very trying circumstances. Have scarcely heard from Rangoon since I left, or been able to transmit any intelligence thither by a conveyance to be depended on. The weakness of my eyes prevents my application to study, or attempt at any exertion. I am making no progress in missionary work; I am distressed by the appalling recollection of the various business which was pressing on me at Rangoon, and made me very reluctant to leave home for the shortest time. Now, I have been detained twice as long as I anticipated, and have, withal, wholly failed in my undertaking. Where, my rebellious heart is ready to cry, where is the wisdom of all this? But it is wise, though blindness can not apprehend. It is best, though unbelief is disposed to murmur. Be still, my soul, and know that He is GOD.” “RANGOON, _October_ 9, 1818.