xvm LIFTING THE VEIL 241 



and among rough sailors in a " Burial at Sea." 

 He enjoyed having poetry read aloud, especially 

 favourite pieces from Tennyson, and even in the 

 last week, when feeling too weak for exertion, he 

 asked for some of " the familiar lines of Scott." 

 At night he was always glad to hear Bishop Ken's 

 old " Evening Hymn," Newman's " Lead, kindly 

 Light," "At even ere the sun was set," and speci- 

 ally the "Abide with me, fast falls the eventide." 1 



But these last days are too sacred to be fully 

 described, only it is a duty, however difficult, to 

 lift the veil so far that those who "come after" 

 may benefit by such an example, as well as right, 

 in justice to the constancy of his character, 

 to record how steadfast he continued through all 

 trials, so that even the sick chamber was illu- 

 mined by love and faith to the end. "The interior 

 beauty of a soul through habitual kindliness of 

 thought is greater than words can tell. To such a 

 man life is a perpetual bright evening, with all 

 things calm, fragrant, and restful. The dust of life 

 is laid, and its fever cool. All sounds are softer, as 

 is the way of evening, and all sights are fairer." 



His friend, the Rev. Gerald Blunt (Rector of 

 Chelsea) came to read the "Visitation of the Sick," 

 and when leaving the room he exclaimed, " I never 

 knew before how beautiful Sir William is " ; and so 

 he was, the noble head lying back on the pillows, 



1 One of his most frequent visitors was Lord Eustace Cecil, who never 

 failed to raise his spirits by his congenial conversation. 



R 



