ment of the moment carried him safely through to the end. It was not until after his return to Mr. Bird's house that the evil effects of the excitement and exposure were manifested. He took a plunge bath, and the sudden immersion sent the blood to his head with disastrous consequences. When his servant came to see why his master stayed so long in the bath, he found him lying dead at the bottom.
The bath, which is like a small tank built of brick and chunam, has been repaired and enclosed with a protective railing. It is shown to the visitor as one of the interesting sights of Trichinopoly.
Bishop Heber was buried in St. John's Church. He lies under the floor of the chancel at the north end of the altar. Bishop Gell, who had an old-fashioned preference for the north end of the altar, was always a little exercised in his mind when he celebrated the Holy Communion at St. John's. It was against his inclination to take the eastward position, and yet he could never reconcile himself to the desecration of his predecessor's grave by treading upon it.
One afternoon in February I had occasion to go to the church, which was but a few minutes' walk from our house. The building was kept open during the day with a peon on duty to look after it. At the altar-rails I found & homely old couple silently regarding the brass that covered the place where the body of Bishop Heber rested. Not knowing whether they had come by appointment and were waiting to see the padre, I asked:
‘Do you wish to see the chaplain?'
‘No, thanks’; then by way of explanation the man continued, ‘we are visitors and are looking at the church.’
He spoke with an American accent. Always glad to point out the few objects of interest that St. John's contained, I said :
