“I little thought to have had my faith brought to a trial so soon. This morning, while getting up I found a pain in the centre of my body, which increased to such a degree, that fever and vertigo came on, and I fainted. The dreadful sensation was like what I once felt in England, but by no means so violent or long-continued; as then, also, I was alone. After recovering my senses, and lying in pain which almost made me breathless, I turned my thoughts to God; and oh! praise to his grace and love, I felt no fear; but I prayed earnestly that I might have a little relief to set my house in order, and make my will. I also thought with pain, of leaving the Persian gospels unfinished. By means of some ether, the Lord gave me ease, and I made my will. The day was spent in great weakness, but my heart was often filled with the sweetest peace and gratitude for the precious things God hath done for me.” “I found delight at night in considering, from the beginning, all that God had done in creation, providence, and grace, for my soul. O God of love, how shall I praise Thee!—happiness, bliss for ever, lies before me. Thou hast brought me upon this stage of life to see what sin and misery are; myself, alas! most deeply partaking in both. But the days and the works of my former state, fraught with danger and with death, are no more; and the God of benevolence and love hath opened to me brighter prospects. Thine I am; ‘My beloved is mine, and I am his;’ and now I want none but Thee. I am alone with Thee in this world; and when I put off this mortal tabernacle, I shall still be with Thee, whatever that unknown change may be; and I shall be before Thee, not to receive honour, but to ascribe praise. Yes! I shall then have power to express my feelings; I shall then, without intermission, see and love; and no cloud of sorrow overcast my mind. I shall then sing in worthy, everlasting strains, the praises of that divine Redeemer, whose works of love now reach beyond my conception.” Some portions of his letters to the Rev. Messrs. Corrie and Brown, at Calcutta, during this year, and part of 1809, will show his labours, trials, and consolations, in a better manner than our narrative could.