It is evident that in accepting this appointment, Heber had maturely considered, not only the responsibility it involved, but the sacrifices of personal feeling and happiness it would require him to make; but as a faithful minister of Christ, he was ready cheerfully to obey his master's call. He knew that a minister should, like a soldier, be ready to go on any service to which he may be appointed, however he might privately prefer staying at home, in the hope of obtaining thereby a more advantageous situation. For many years, too, he had had a lurking fondness, as he himself acknowledged, for all that related to India or Asia; and there were no travels which he read with so much interest, as those which related to that country. He had often, too, as he stated in his letters, "felt or fancied that he should like to be in the very situation to which he was now appointed, as a director of missionaries; conciliating the different sects employed in the work, by reining in and moderating the zeal of some, and urging to greater activity that of others." That he was eminently qualified for this great work was proved by every step of his subsequent life.

Heber's correspondence now breathed, more than ever, a spirit of the purest piety and most glowing zeal, and showed that the current of his thoughts was strongly set in favour of India. His chief anxiety evidently was to promote the spiritual interests of the millions over whom he was now to be placed. It was often his language, "I hope and trust I may not be useless where I am going; and that nothing which my friends may hear of me in India, may alter the favourable opinion with which they have honoured me here." To the sarcastic remark of an individual, on whom he sometimes called, who attempted to banter him out of his design, jeeringly observing, "Yours is the Quixotism of religion: I suppose you are going in search of the lost ten

tribes of Israel," he calmly replied, "I think I can be of use among the natives; such will at least be my earnest endeavour, and I am very zealous in the cause; and if I am permitted but to rescue one miserable Brahmin from his wretched superstition, I shall think myself amply repaid for all I sacrifice."

"Here honour and interest woo'd him to rest,

And spoke of the evils to come;

And love clasp'd him close to her cowardly breast,
And whispered the joys of his home;
But zeal for his Lord severed every chain
By which we endeavoured to bind him,
He paid every tear, by tears back again,
But cast all our wishes behind him.

"And he mounted the deck, and we saw him depart
From our breezy and verdant shore;

And we left him, in sadness and sickness of heart,
To think we might see him no more:

But he sought the far coast of the sultry land,
Where the sun never knows a cloud;

And he planted his foot on the burning strand,
And his head at the altar he bowed:

"And his soul by the solemn oath he bound,
To live and die for the Lord;

The idol temples to strew on the ground,
And to publish the life-giving Word.
And he preached by day and by dewy eve,

And when night had darkened the plain.-
Ah! who shall the tale of his labours weave,
And so give us our brother again?"*

* Lines by the Rev. J. W. Cunningham.

CHAPTER VI.

Heber's preparations for his voyage to India—Last visit to Hodnet-Farewell sermon there-Feelings on finally quitting the place-Last visit to OxfordLast sermon at Lincoln's Inn-Christian and kind effort to rescue a friend from the indulgence of a long-practised, ruinous habit-Consecration to the bishopric-Valedictory address of the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge-Farewell letter to his mother-Embarks on board the Grenville-Early incidents of the voyage-State of the Bishop's feelings-Crosses the Line-Magnificent sun-set— Arrival in Saugor roads-Anchors in Diamond harbour

HEBER was now actively engaged in making the necessary preparations for his Indian voyage. The idea of separating from his numerous and highly respectable connexions, under such circumstances, was to him almost insupportable; still it never led him to regret the step he had taken. "I indeed give up a good deal," said he, "both of present comfort, and, as I am assured, of future possible expectation; and, above all, I give up the enjoyment of English society, and a list of most kind friends, such as few men, in my situation, have possessed. Still I do not repent the line which

I have taken. I trust I shall be useful where I am going; and I hope and believe I am actuated by a zeal for God's service. I yet trust to retain the good wishes and the prayers of my friends, and if I

ever return to England, to find that they have not forgotten me. After all, I hope I am not enthusiastic in thinking that a clergyman is like a soldier or a sailor, bound to go on any service, however remote or undesirable, where the cause of his duty leads him; and my destiny (though there are some circumstances attending it, which make my heart ache) has many advantages, in an extended sphere of professional activity."

Before leaving England, Heber was desirous of taking his B. D. and D. D. degrees: but his time was now so completely taken up in attending to instructions relating to the affairs of India, that he had no chance of proceeding to Oxford for the purpose. Happily for him this was rendered unnecessary, through the kindness of his friend, the lord bishop of Oxford, at whose suggestion the university cheerfully consented to give him these honours, which he had so well merited, without requiring his attendance on the occasion. Well would it be were all literary honours thus deservedly bestowed.

Intelligence now reached England, of the sudden death of Dr. Loring, the archdeacon of Calcutta, who accompanied bishop Middleton to India, and whom he survived only about two months, dying deeply and most deservedly regretted, This rendered it desirable that Heber should set off for India much sooner than he had intended; and he accordingly left London, where he had been staying some time, to take his final farewell of his beloved Hodnet, the place which was far more endeared to him than any other, being the spot where he had passed most of his youthful days, and where he had commenced his ministerial labours. None but those who have been similarly situated, can imagine what were his feelings, as he approached, for the last time, the village, where dwelt that flock, to promote whose spiritual welfare he had laboured with so much diligence,

but whom he must now leave for so long a time, and perhaps, as indeed it afterwards proved, for ever.

For nearly sixteen years he had laboured indefatigably to promote the spiritual and eternal interests of this affectionate people; and though his success fell far short of his wishes, yet he had evidently been the means of doing them much good. The poor, as well as the rich, looked up to him, not only as their spiritual instructor, but as their best friend. Here too dwelt his aged mother and his beloved sister, between whom and himself an affection existed mutually, much stronger than is usual. Every trace of his memory was endeared with relics of Hodnet: it was impossible for him to advert either to his early joys or sorrows, without bringing its scenes afresh to his mind; all these things combined, embittered greatly the idea of his departure. In this emergency he looked up to Him for help, who had called him to a station of greater responsibility and honour, and more extensive usefulness; nor did he look in vain, for God afforded him aid, amidst his acutest feelings, very far beyond what he could have anticipated.

He preached his farewell sermon, to a crowded congregation, in March, 1823. Never was a parting address listened to with more interest. All present, both young and old, seemed as if an impression was made upon their minds, that they were listening to that voice, which had so often given them counsel and warning, for the last time. It was indeed a season of such powerfully excited feeling as could never be forgotten by any present. Symptoms of unfeigned regret were visible in every countenance, and it was with extreme difficulty that he could restrain his own feelings, so as to be able to deliver the discourse.

After some important remarks on the vanity of fixing the affections on the fleeting things of earth,