It was to ascend one niche higher in knowledge of oriental tongues than Sir William Jones.

He labored to this end with a desperate assiduity that perhaps was never surpassed or even equalled.

He died hugging the conviction that he had attained it.
This little village was his birthplace.

Here he wrote his first rhymes, and wooed and won the first inspirations of the muse.

His heart, as its last pulses grew weaker and slower, in that far-off heathen land, took on its child-thoughts again and its child- memories; and his last words were about this little, rural hamlet where he was born.