loved the evangelists, following the footsteps of Jesus
Christ, dwelling upon his words, repeating over and over again the
stories of what he did, with all the fond veneration of an old and
favored servant.

Sometimes, too, he would give the narration an exceedingly practical
turn, as one example will illustrate.

He had noticed a falling off in his little circle that met for social
prayer, and took occasion, the first time he collected a tolerable
audience, to tell concerning "the conference meeting that the disciples
attended" after the resurrection.

"But Thomas was not with them." "Thomas not with them!" said the old
man, in a sorrowful voice. "Why, what could keep Thomas away? Perhaps,"
said he, glancing at some of his backward auditors, "Thomas had got
cold-hearted, and was afraid they would ask him to make the first
prayer; or perhaps," said he, looking at some of the farmers, "Thomas
was afraid the roads were bad; or perhaps," he added, after a pause,
"Thomas had got proud, and thought he could not come in his old
clothes." Thus he went on, significantly summing up the common excuses
of his people; and then, with great simplicity and emotion, he added,
"But only think what Thomas lost! for in the middle of the meeting, the
Lord Jesus came and stood among them! How sorry Thomas must have been!"
This representation served to fill the vacant seats for some time to
come.

At another time Father Morris gave the details of the anointing of David
to be king. He told them how Samuel went to Bethlehem, to Jesse's house,
and went in with a "How d'ye do, Jesse?" and how, when Jesse asked him
to take a chair, he said he could not stay a minute; that the Lord had
sent him to anoint one of his sons for a king; and how, when Jesse
called in the tallest and handsomest, Samuel said "he would not do;" and
how all the rest passed the same test; and at last, how Samuel says,
"Why, have not you any more sons, Jesse?" and Jesse says, "Why, yes,
there is little David down in the lot;" and how, as soon as ever Samuel
saw David, "he slashed the oil right on to him;" and how Jesse said "he
never was so beat in all his life."

Father Morris sometimes used his illustrative talent to very good
purpose in the way of rebuke. He had on his farm a fine orchard of
peaches, from which some of the ten and twelve-year-old gentlemen helped
themselves more liberally than even the old man's kindness thought
expedient.

Accordingly, he took occ