se and pleasure of the congregation, which numbered no less than
1,300, all reverent, all making the responses, joining in the Easter
hymn, and in the 100th Psalm. Never had the Bishop been happier! As he
was taking off his robes, he exclaimed, "Gladly would I exchange years of
common life for _one_ such day as this!" Even at night he could not help
coming back to Archdeacon Robinson's room to rejoice, discuss, and
finally pray over this blessed fruit of the toils of a holy man, who had
been at rest thirty-eight years, yet whose work still increased. The
next day he confirmed a large number; and Kohloff, a contemporary
missionary of Schwartz, preached in Tamul.

After this happy Easter, the Bishop continued his route to Trichinopoly,
where he preached and confirmed on the Sunday, but complained of a slight
headache, and allowed himself to be persuaded not to go to the native
service in the evening, though he spent a good deal of time conversing
with Mr. Robinson, who was unwell enough to be lying in bed.

On Monday, the 3rd of April, he went at daybreak to hold a Tamul
confirmation at the poor little neglected native church; then looked at
the schools, but found that the want of ventilation rendered them too
oppressive for him to remain; and afterwards received and graciously
answered an address from the poor Christians, praying him to send them a
pastor, for they had been without one for two years. He came back, still
in his robes, to Mr. Robinson's bedroom, and, with great eagerness,
talked over what he had seen and heard; speaking of the destitution of
this poor church, and of the needfulness that a Bishop should receive
regular reports of every station; also mentioning a Danish missionary
whom he intended to appoint. He then went to his own room, and,
according to Indian habit after exertion, went out in order to bathe. The
bath was in a separate building. It was fifteen feet long, eight broad,
and with stone steps descending into it to a depth of seven feet, and it
was perfectly full of water. The servant sitting outside wondered at the
length of time and unbroken silence, and at last looked in; but Reginald
Heber had, by that time, long been lifeless in the cold bath!

He was only in his forty-fourth year; but medical opinion declared that
there had been, unsuspected, the seeds of fatal disease, accelerated by
climate, exertion, and excitement, and such as would probably have caused
long helplessness and