TO MRS. R. HEBER.

Mowah, Jyepoor Territory) Jan. 22, 1825.

MY DEAREST EMILY,

I take the opportunity of the return of Mr. Mac Sweyn's suwarrs to Agra, to send you my Journal, as continued down to this morning. My next letter must be from Jyepoor, where, if it please God, I hope to arrive on the 28th. If you sail to Bombay, that will be the last letter which you are likely to receive from me during your stay in Bengal.

's

I was very sorry to hear of poor death, and cannot help thinking that the confined air of her quarters in the fort, added to her own regret for the foolish step she had taken in leaving you, hastened it. I now much regret that I did not, as I once thought of doing, call on her, in one of my morning rides, to bid her good bye before I left Calcutta ; she would have taken it kindly, but I was in a hurry, and not over well-pleased with her at the time.

I have just received a letter from Colonel Raper, the Resident at the Rannee's court, who sent me an additional escort of cavalry for my passage through the Jyepoor territory. I had, previously, no apprehensions, but you will be glad to hear that I am well guarded. The Rannee is now again on perfect good terms with the English. Sir David Ochterlony is residing in the palace with her, and

she has sent a vakeel and a guard of twenty-five horsemen to guide and guard me through her dominions. She has, in fact, carried most of her points with Government, which, in these troublesome times, had probably, no desire to make new enemies. All is, at present, quiet, in these parts; and with the exception of the strange appearance of 2500 horse, no man knows whence, at Calpee, who plundered the city, and even ventured to exchange some shots with the garrison in the fort, all has been so for several months past. Any more serious mischief to which that may have been intended as a prelude, will probably be prevented by the news of our successes at Rangoon,

I am quite well, and, if you were with me, should be quite happy. As it is, I enjoy very much this sort of wild travelling, and the spectacle of a people in a very simple state of society.

REGINALD CALCUTTA.

TO MRS. R. HEBER.

Jyepoor, January 28, 1825.

I have written to you so lately that I should hardly have sent you another packet, if it were not under the idea that, unless I make haste, I shall hardly catch you before your embarkation for Bombay, should that event, as I continue to hope it may, take place. I hope, please God, to send

an account of my further progress, to meet you, should you arrive there before me; but should such a letter not immediately make its appearance, do not anticipate any evil, since in the line of road which I am most likely to follow in my march from Nusseerabad, I am not certain that any Dâk exists, except a very circuitous one.

I little thought, when fancying the possible trials which we might have to go through in India, that the sea was ever to roll between you, our babies, and me! But go wherever you will, you are in the hands of a good God. I know you will not tempt his goodness unnecessarily by going in an improper vessel, (an Arab I positively prohibit,) or at an improper season; and the air of Calcutta, to which I have already trusted you so long, is, in my opinion, an element full as dangerous as that to which I am now trusting you. And I hope that the Great Protector, under whose care we are now running our separate course, will not only, if he sees it good for us, bring us safely and happily together in a few months more, but that, through His mercy, this may be our last separation, of any length, on this side the grave!

An answer to this letter may have a chance of reaching me either at Mhow or Ahmedabad. I am not able to determine, till I reach Nusseerabad, which of these two routes it will be best for me to pursue. The first had been always contemplated by me, but since the Bengal army has been withdrawn, and replaced by fresh troops from Poonah,

I do not know that I am likely to have much to do there; and by taking the more western road by Oodeypoor, Aboo, Palampoor, &c., I get, as I am told, a better road, visit a new and large station of the Bombay army at Deesa, and see some fine ruins at Aboo. Above all, Mhow will lie very well in the road which I propose to take with you in a future visitation, when the chance is, there will be more to do there than there is now. However, I hope to receive letters at Nusseerabad which will enable me to determine what is best: it will be usefulness, not curiosity, which will guide me. A letter to each of these places, Mhow and Ahmedabad, will be almost sure to reach me, and would be a great comfort to me.

Do you know, dearest, that I sometimes think we should be more useful, and happier, if Cawnpoor or Benares, not Calcutta, were our home. My visitations would be made with far more convenience, the expence of house-rent would be less to the Company, and our own expences of living would be reduced very considerably. The air, even of Cawnpoor, is, I apprehend, better than that of Bengal, and that of Benares decidedly so. The greater part of my business with Government may be done as well by letters as personal interviews; and, if the Archdeacon of Calcutta were resident there, it seems more natural that the Bishop of India should remain in the centre of his diocese. The only objection is the great number of Christians in Calcutta, and the consequent probability

that my preaching is more useful there than it would be any where else. We may talk these points over when we meet.

I have just, thank God, received your letter of February 1st, and I am truly rejoiced at the favourable account which it gives of both our treasures.

You say nothing of yourself, and I cannot help being uneasy lest your anxiety should do you harm. God forgive me! I often regret that I left you. Yet I hope and trust that He will take care of you, and I know that it is He only on whose care all must depend, whether I am present or absent. It is this only, and the feeling that I have the opportunity of doing Him service where I am going, which keeps me yet in suspense about turning back to you. He knows how gladly (if I thought myself justified in doing it, now that all preparations have been made in Bombay to receive me) I should set my face eastward. I thought yesterday morning, when the drum beat for our march, of poor Tom Tough in Dibdin's ballad: