succeeded by that desolating disaster, the Serampore fire. I could
scarcely believe the report; it was like a blow on the head which
stupefies. I flew to Serampore to witness the desolation. The
scene was indeed affecting. The immense printing-office, two
hundred feet long and fifty broad, reduced to a mere shell. The
yard covered with burnt quires of paper, the loss in which article
was immense. Carey walked with me over the smoking ruins. The
tears stood in his eyes. 'In one short evening,' said he, 'the
labours of years are consumed. How unsearchable are the ways of
God! I had lately brought some things to the utmost perfection of
which they seemed capable, and contemplated the missionary
establishment with perhaps too much self-congratulation. The Lord
has laid me low, that I may look more simply to Him.' Who could
stand in such a place, at such a time, with such a man, without
feelings of sharp regret and solemn exercise of mind. I saw the
ground strewed with half-consumed paper, on which in the course of a
very few months the words of life would have been printed. The
metal under our feet amidst the ruins was melted into misshapen
lumps--the sad remains of beautiful types consecrated to the service
of the sanctuary. All was smiling and promising a few hours
before--now all is vanished into smoke or converted into rubbish!
Return now to thy books, regard God in all thou doest. Learn
Arabic with humility. Let God be exalted in all thy plans, and
purposes, and labours; He can do without thee."

Carey himself thus wrote of the disaster to Dr. Ryland:--"25th March
1812.--The loss is very great, and will long be severely felt; yet I
can think of a hundred circumstances which would have made it much
more difficult to bear. The Lord has smitten us, he had a right to
do so, and we deserve his corrections. I wish to submit to His