REV. HENRY MARTYN, B.D. 41 



22. A Brahmin, about my own age, was performing his 

 devotions in the river early this morning, just as 1 was going to 

 prayer. I was struck with the conviction of God's sovereignty, 

 whose mere pleasure had made such a difference in all the 

 external circumstances of our lives. ,Let fnot' that man's 

 extreme earnestness rise up against me at the last day ! With 

 what intense devotion he seemed to worship an unknown God ! 

 This day they performed the annual ceremony of committing to 

 the sacred stream the ej6B.gies of Dhoorga. These were figures 

 in relief on a section of a circle, gorgeously bedecked with tinsel, 

 and kept in each boat under a silk awning. Each village 

 furnished its Dhoorga ; and about half-a-dozen of them were 

 assembled, when I passed through them. As the boat went 

 along, they turned the front of their images towards me, and at 

 the same time blew a blast with their trumpets, evidently 

 intending to gratify me with a sight of what appeared to them 

 so fine. Had their employment been less impious, I should 

 have returned the compliment by looking, but the least I could 

 do was to turn away. Walked in a village to-night, and tried 

 to converse with the men. The women and childen fled at the 

 sight of a white man, 



23. Arrived at Cutwa, and spent the evening with Mr. 

 Chamberlain the Baptist missionary. He lives there in deep 

 solitude — not an European within many miles of him. The 

 dark walls of his bamboo dwelling are sufficient to inspire 

 melancholy,but to add to this, before his window in the garden is 

 the tomb of his first wife. I thought him wise in writing to 

 England for some one to come out to him ; and at his request 

 gave him Lydia's address, that if possible, the person might 

 have the advantage of coming out with her. 



24. Mr. C. came on with me, and passed the day giving an 

 account of his conversion and call to be a missionary. In my 

 walk, returning after the night had come on, I passed between 

 the river and a party of eight jackals. They waited until I 

 passed. 



25. At sunset came to on the eastern bank. The opposite 

 bank was very romantic, adorned with a stately range of very 

 high forest trees, under which the deep shade seemed just to 

 correspond to the painter's conception. I enjoyed great 

 solemnity of thought, and much comfort in reflecting that God 



