d not think
myself justified in declining a situation of so great usefulness, and for
which, without vanity, I think myself not ill adapted, either from a love
for the society and friendship of England, or from a hope, which may
never be realized, of being some time or other in a situation of more
importance at home." At first, however, the fear for the child's health
induced him to decline, but only if anyone else equally suitable could be
found; and finally he accepted it, with apparent coolness, veiling the
deep spirit of zeal and enthusiasm that glowed within. It was not the
ardent vehemence that enables some to follow their inward call,
overcoming all obstacles, but it was calm obedience to a call from
without. "After all," he wrote, "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 course of his duty
leads him, and my destiny (though there are some circumstances attending
it which make my heart ache) has many, very many, advantages in an
extended sphere of professional activity, in the indulgence of literary
curiosity, and, what to me has many charms, the opportunity of seeing
nature in some of its wildest and most majestic features."

In the spring of 1823, he took leave of Hodnet, amid the tears of his
parishioners; and on the 18th of May preached his last sermon in
Lincoln's Inn chapel, on the Atonement. On coming out, one of the most
leading men among the Wesleyan Methodists could only express his feelings
by exclaiming, "Thank God for that man! Thank God for that man!"

It is striking to find him in the full pressure of business, while
preparing in London for his consecration and his voyage, making time for
a letter to one of the Hodnet farmers, to warn him against habits of
drunkenness, hoping that it would dwell with him "as a voice from the
dead." On the 1st of June, 1823, Reginald Heber was consecrated at
Lambeth, and on the 10th sailed for India! He made several sketches
along the southern coast, under one of which he wrote:--

"And we must have danger, and fever, and pain,
Ere we look on the white rocks of Albion again."

A few days later, when passing the western coast of France on a Sunday,
the sound of the bells suggested the following meditative verses:--

"Bounding along the obedient surges,
Cheerly on her onward way,
Her course the gallant vessel urges