And so, looking the wreck of his former self, after four years of very hard but very successful work, Mr. Duff for awhile took his leave of the land which he loved. His feelings towards Hindostan were expressed in words which he wrote at a later period. "Wherever I wander, wherever I stay, my heart is in India, in deep sympathy with its multitudinous inhabitants, and in earnest longings for their highest welfare in time and in eternity!" It was a comfort to the Missionary that he was able to leave his work to be carried on by wise and pious men, of a like spirit with himself. It was on a Christmas day that the ship which carried Mr. Duff and his family, (for he was now father as well as husband) entered the Firth of Clyde. Once more the Highlander trod the soil of his dear native land, once more he looked with admiring eyes on the beautiful city of Edinburgh, with its bold hills, and picturesque castle. The sea-air had greatly restored Mr. Duff, and the pure breezes of Scotland seemed to give him new life. But what measure of strength was renewed to him, was freely to be expended in the cause of Missions. Duff had not come home to rest. If he could not work "in" India, he would work "for" India still. He would rouse Scotland, aye, and England too, to give more freely, to labour more heartily, to pray more fervently for the benighted Hindus. Only the fervour of his zeal enabled the Missionary to undergo the great fatigues which followed his return to his country. Amidst the frosts of winter or the heats of summer travelling North, South, East and West, Mr. Duff addressed hundreds of congregations all over the land of Scotland. Twice he visited London, and other large cities of England. Often, when almost exhausted, the Missionary would make long speeches in crowded meetings, he was known to do so even when just rising from a sick bed. Mr. Duff's thin gaunt form, his worn wasted face, pleaded as well as his voice.