Armed with a rudimentary Chinese manuscript, a dictionary (loaned by the British Museum), and an almost suicidal determination, Robert Morrison embarked on his arduous journey to China in 1807. The voyage itself was fraught with peril, a three-month odyssey across tempestuous seas, punctuated by suspicion and hostility from those who viewed missionaries with disdain. He eventually arrived in Canton (modern-day Guangzhou), the only port open to limited foreign trade, but a city notorious for its strict anti-foreign laws and deep-seated suspicion of outsiders.

His primary mission was audacious: to learn Chinese, specifically Mandarin and Cantonese, and to translate the entire Bible into this complex, ancient language. This was no small feat. Chinese characters, a visual language entirely different from alphabetic scripts, presented an almost insurmountable barrier. There were no established learning materials for Westerners, no native teachers willing to risk the severe penalties for aiding a "foreign devil" in such a forbidden endeavor. Morrison was forced to learn in secret, often with great personal risk.

He worked in isolation, poring over texts, hiring clandestine tutors who would teach him under the cloak of night, whispering lessons through a screen to avoid direct contact. He adopted Chinese dress, ate Chinese food, and meticulously studied the nuances of tone and character. His days were spent in relentless linguistic combat, his evenings often in prayer and reflection, combating profound loneliness and the gnawing doubt that inevitably arises when faced with a task of such scale. He knew that for Christianity to truly take root in China, it had to speak the language of its people, a language he was painstakingly, and almost single-handedly, deciphering.