he labour to make the truth of the Gospel known to the poor heathen-to the mendicant, the prisoner, and the young; he was the principal support of an English service every Sabbath, in the court-house, for the European families; with him were associated two or three civilians and some pious women, in the more general operations. He employed teachers for the young, and men who acted as catechists: one of whom was introduced to me as having been a pupil of Schwartz, at Tanjore. He supported many of the Hindoos, whom he had adopted into his family, at his own private table. He had fitted up a wing of his elegant mansion as a chapel for worship, and furnished it in a convenient manner, besides placing in it a magnificent and welltoned organ. He gave one meal every week to the mendicant poor; when he addressed them on the subject of greatest interest. In most of his benevolent operations he had a few associates from among the other residents; some of whom used to meet with him weekly for mutual counsel and prayer. There were others among the local civilians, unrelenting and unscrupulous opposers of such efforts; and by sneers, open hostility, secret manœuvres, and malicious misrepresentations, they sought to wound the feelings, the reputation, or secular interests of this christian band :-danger, madness, hypocrisy, or impurity, were insinuated or charged against the plans and proceedings of the warm-hearted enthusiast. The affliction occasioned by such hatred and hateful opposition to his benevolent mind, was known only to the God whom he served. I doubt, indeed, the wisdom of some of his measures; his worldly influence was a bait, to which many a mercenary hypocrite was allured; it attracted the hollowhearted deceivers, who made large profession, and rendered unscrupulous conformity to his schemes for months and years, till they had attained their object. As it drew them, it misled him, and served as a veil to conceal the designs of his plunderers. He knew that many came not for the word, but because they did eat of the loaves and were filled. Yet he was ever ready to judge of others by his own generous honesty, and take the fairest estimate of those who attached themselves to his brethren. He was too much in the habit of giving, and too much elevated in outward distinction, to be able to form an impartial judgment of the native professors. He also felt so acutely the malevolence which persecuted Christianity in himself, that he often imputed to the same origin the insinuations which assailed the native Christians. Indeed, I believe he would have done more good had he laboured personally, to the same degree to which he devoted himself, and abstained from any direct distribution, among the people, of his large pecuniary resources; and had he devoted his substance as fully to the same sacred cause, and in the same amount, but through unknown channels; employing others ostensibly as his almoners. He would then have seen more clearly what was the effect of moral influence, what was the fruit of principle, and the sincerity of converts. It would not have blinded himself, or deluded others. When I visited the Hindoos at Chittoor, there was a vast amount of christian profession; but when the work was tried by the fire, the disproportion was mortifying indeed. My friend had also, from the best intentions, and in the most honourable manner, married a Hindoo female, whom he had educated in his own house. I have no doubt he loved the woman; but he had been led into the attachment from a desire to elevate the female character among the people of that land. His best friends condemned the proceeding; but none that knew the purity and singleness of his mind, ever questioned the integrity and benevolence of his design. I fear it was afterwards the source of much distress to his devout mind. Three weeks did I spend under this hospitable christian friend's roof; nor had we a single idle day, or occasion for ennui. A new world had opened to me, and a fresh source of enjoyment was presented to him. The religious world, with its leading characters, and new forms of opinion and operation, was most entertaining, and seemed instructive to him, who had been almost thirty years in India. The history of parties, and their lines of distinction, directed his mind into new channels of thought, and led to other associations of mind and fellowship. I became his fellow-labourer, morning and evening; he became my interpreter and guide. Many were the precious hours we thus spent. One or two seasons of exciting interest intervened. On one of them I performed the ceremony of marriage for four parties, Hindoo or Mussulman in their origin, but professing Christians now. I baptized thirty-six adults and children; some of whom had been waiting for months, till a minister should visit them. I also attempted to speak a word in season to the European residents on the Sundays, when the court-house served for our chapel, and the judges' bench for my pulpit. Some of the most pleasant associations and recollections of my life linger around the weeks spent in fellowship with the admirable persons whom I found in Chittoor. The failure of my benevolent friend's most sanguine projects, and the disappointment occasioned by those who have drawn back, the comparatively early decease of this eminent and zealous Christian, and the dark aspect thrown over all, or the total change which followed his death, do indeed tinge my reflections with sombre and melancholy doubts. But it was well that it was in his heart; it was his purpose to serve God and to promote the wellbeing of the Hindoo people; nor on his bed of death did he mourn one sacrifice, regret one effort, or fret because of any one affliction endured for the sake of his blessed Redeemer. Few men ever enjoyed more real satisfaction in the objects of pursuit, while living; and none could have more peace in the answer of a good conscience, and in the assurance of faith at the hour of dissolution. How many who once ridiculed, or cast reproach upon him, joked about his peculiarities, and perverted his motives, or resisted his efforts, when living, would now gratefully exchange their portion with his, or wish their soul to be with his in the eternal world! Five or six miles to the north-east of Chittoor, along the valley of the Ponee, on the side of a craggy mountain of almost bare rock, are some singular monuments of former times. They are detached chambers, in the shape of an oblong square, called here, Pandoo Covils. Four immense stone slabs placed on their edges, form the walls, one large slab is laid for the flooring, and another on the top of the four, for a covering. The largest of these chambers measured about eight feet by seven, and was five feet and a half in height. There is a hole in the upright slab at one end, large enough to admit the body of one man; and two feet distant, in front of this orifice, a semicircular slab is placed upright, as if for the defence of this entrance ; similar slabs were set round the other walls, though no holes were behind them. Some of the chambers had as many as eight such guards. Large earthen vases have been found, and in one case, a hammer used by Hindoo goldsmiths, under the floor stones of these chambers. Some have supposed that these were repositories for the dead. In other hilly districts, similar structures are to be traced, even to many hundreds, without any presence of human skeletons; they seem more likely to have been used as habitations for the living, in a rude and unsocial state of savage life. The semicircular stones might have been intended as means of defence from the |