3 o8 FRANCIS ORPEN MORRIS 



done that could be done by loving relatives and 

 friends, the years of my father's active and devoted 

 life were rapidly drawing to an end. At times he 

 suffered much from his breathing, but no word of 

 complaint passed his lips. As he had lived so he 

 met his end ; he had nothing to fear, and he feared 

 nothing ; his whole life had been spent in his 

 Master's service, and it is not too much to say of him 

 that each day was lived as if it were to be his last. 

 He was absolutely resigned; "in God's hands" he 

 owned himself to be. By daily intercourse through 

 life he knew Him in whom he had believed, nor did 

 he find Him to fail. During the afternoon of Feb- 

 ruary loth he peacefully passed away. There was 

 something of pathos in the fact that shortly before 

 he breathed his last a favourite collie-dog who was 

 in the room came up to his master's bedside as if to 

 bid him farewell, an approach which was responded 

 to by the gentlest of touches. 



His body was laid to rest near the south wall of 

 the little church in which his well-known voice had 

 been so often heard. The words of faith and hope 

 were feelingly read at the grave-side, as they had 

 been sixteen years before at the grave-side of his 

 beloved wife, by his good friend and neighbour, 

 Canon Wilton. Though but mid-February the day 

 was bright and warm, with signs of spring in the 

 early budding flowers and the voices of the birds 

 in the Rectory garden close at hand no unfitting 

 accompaniments for the occasion. Of him truly 

 it may be said, " He being dead yet speaketh." 



