Mr. Morris has for many years taken an active part in the Church Courts of, first, the Presbyterian Church of Canada in connection with the Church of Scotland, and since the union of the four Presbyterian Churches of the Dominion as the Presbyterian Church in Canada, as a representative to the Assembly of that Church. He has been for twenty years a Trustee of Queen's College, Kingston, of which his father was one of the active founders. Mr. Morris actively assisted in bringing about the union of the Churches above alluded to, affirming it to be in the highest interests of Presbyterianism and religion in the Dominion that such a consummation should be brought about.
[Illustration: THOMAS TALBOT, signed as Thomas Talbot]
Not often does it fall to the lot of the biographer to chronicle a more singular piece of history than is afforded by the life of the founder of the Talbot Settlement in Western Canada. A contemporary writer has proved to us that Ireland has, at one time and another, contributed her full share of notable personages to our population; and Colonel Talbot is certainly entitled to rank among the most remarkable of them all. A man of high birth and social position, of good abilities, with a decided natural turn for an active military career, and with excellent prospects of success before him, he voluntarily forsook the influences under which he had been reared, and spent by far the greater part of a long life in the solitude of the Canadian wilderness. He was the early associate and life-long friend of the illustrious Duke of Wellington. At the outset of their careers, any impartial friend of the two youths might not unreasonably have predicted a higher and wider fame for the scion of the House of Talbot than for Arthur Wellesley; for the former was the brighter, and apparently the more ambitious of the two, and his connections were at least equally influential. Had any one indulged in such a vaticination, however, his prediction would have been most ignominiously falsified by subsequent events. Arthur Wellesley lived to achieve a reputation second to that of scarcely any name in history. He became the most famous and successful military commander of modern times. Nations vied with each other in heaping well-deserved honours upon his head, and his Sovereign characterized him as "the greatest general England ever saw." Statesmen and princes hung upon his words, and even upon his nod; and lovely women languished for his smiles. When he died, full of years and honours, and everything of good which a grateful nation has to bestow, his body lay in state at Chelsea Hospital. It was visited by the high and mighty ones of the Empire, and was contemplated with an almost superstitious awe. It was finally borne with regal pomp, through streets draped in mourning, and thronged by a countless multitude, to its final resting-place in the crypt of the noblest of English cathedrals. The funeral rites were solemnized amid the tears of a nation, and formed an event in that nation's history. The obsequies of "the Iron Duke" took place on the 18th of November, 1852. In less than three months from that date his friend Colonel Talbot also went the way of all flesh. But by how different a road! His life, though it had by no means been spent in vain, had had little to commend it to the emulation or envy of mankind. Its most vigorous season had been passed amid the solitude of the Canadian forest, and in its decline it had become the prey of selfishness and neglect. Colonel Talbot died in a small room in the house of a man who had once been his servant. He must have tasted the bitterness of death many times before he finally entered into his rest. Neither wife, child, nor relative ministered to his wants. But scant ceremony was vouchsafed to his remains. His body, instead of lying in state, was deposited in a barn, and was finally attended to its last obscure resting-place in a little Canadian village by a handful of friends and acquaintances. The weather was piercingly cold, and we may be sure that the obsequies were not unnecessarily prolonged. Surely the force of antithesis could not much farther go!