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Dear Sir,

A complete stranger to you, I came to your house; and you not only granted me the rites of hospitality, but at a moment when I was deprived of all the means of executing my purpose of preaching the tidings of salvation in the land of Bokhara and Affghanistaun, you offered me, without my soliciting it, your kind assistance. After enjoying for several months your most instructive conversation, and wandering in spirit together through the opinions of the Ancients, and communicating our ideas on higher points, regarding the eternal welfare of human beings, I set out for my perilous journey; with your help I was able to make out my way, and to rescue myself from difficulties; and during the time of my absence, you, and your whole family, treated with the utmost kindness those that are dearest to me; so that even my boy of three years old seems to be sensible of it, and has learnt to look up to you with reverence and gratitude. To whom else, therefore, but to you should I dedicate these humble pages, containing the acts of my pilgrimage to Bokhara, Balkh, Cabool, Cashmeer, and Hindoostaunespecially as I hope soon to undertake another pilgrimage, not knowing that which may befalme, nor whether I shall ever see you again. To none then, I repeat it, can I dedicate the results of my labours with more satisfaction to myself than to you. But I feel that I am addressing one of whom I am incompetent to speak in terms commensurate with merit ; indeed, to the inhabitants of this island it were superfluous to do so : all, from the highest to the lowest, allow, that to the native poor you are looked upon as a blessing; your hospitality is known to all. And I confidently add, that I do not know where I should look for an individual combining, like yourself, so many of the best gifts of our nature with so much profound erudition ; so much benevolence, with so much nobleness of intellect. In venturing to write this my genuine sentiment, it is not flattery, but truth which prompts me, and I am convinced that in doing so I have the suffrages of all who know you.

This book, then, thus dedicated, may remain as a mark of the ardent gratitude of the writer, who, with prayers for you and your whole house, is ever,

Dear Sir,
Your most humble
And affectionate Friend

And Servant,

JOSEPH WOLFF, Malta, Jan. 29, 1835.


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