Mr. Morris

“ She was evidently in a state of nervous excitement, and spoke so low that we on the platform only ascertained what she had said after the meeting was over. It appears that she expostulated—'Oh, Mr. Morris, don't you think it is wrong in a man of your great talents and influence to be engaged in leading these young men astray—astray from God's truth—into the dangerous paths of Atheism and revolution?' Adding a few more words of religious appeal, she sat down, but immediately afterwards rose and hastened from the room like an affrighted spirit—poor girl! ”

“ The drawing-room began to look empty: the baccarat was discontinued for lack of a banker; more than one person said good-night of his own accord, and was suffered to depart without expostulation; and in the meanwhile Mr. Morris redoubled in agreeable attentions to those who stayed behind. He went from group to group and from person to person with looks of the readiest sympathy and the most pertinent and pleasing talk; he was not so much like a host as like a hostess, and there was a feminine coquetry and condescension in his manner which charmed the hearts of all. ”

“ Mr. Morris, too, in answer to his enquiries, said that he had been well looked after in the servants' quarters of the guest-house, and had had an entertaining supper with an agreeable Frenchman who, it seemed, had come with the Cluniac commissioners. Respect for his master and a sense of the ludicrous struggled in Mr. Morris's voice as he described the foreigner's pronunciation and his eloquent gestures.
"He's not like a man, sir," he said, and shook with reminiscent laughter. ”

“ Mr. Morris is well known in the district, both as a writer and an antiquarian. His labours in the work before us evince him to be a zealous and untiring student. We trust his book will have the success which we think it well deserves.—Ulverston Advertiser.
The stranger who takes up his abode in Furness will find Mr. Morris's little book a capital helpmate.—Ulverston Mirror.
Apart from its etymological value the work is highly acceptable as a contribution to local literature.—Carlisle Journal. ”

“ I answered.
"Ah!" he cried, "you don't guess well, Miss Morris, but you've the heart of a good comrade, and now I'm sure you will do as I ask you, and play Alixe for me?"
I sprang to my feet with a bound. "Alixe?" I cried. "I to play that child? oh, impossible! No—no! I should be absurd! I—I—I know too much—oh, you understand what I mean! She is a little convent-bred bit of innocence—a veritable baby of sixteen years! Dear Mr. Daly don't you see, I should ruin the play?"
He answered, rather coldly: "You are not given to ruining plays. The part does not amount to much. Good heavens! ”

“ I can give no better summary of the whole subject under consideration, than that which is found in some remarks made by Robert H. Morris, Esq., on the occasion of his retirement from the office of post master of New York, in May, 1849, at a dinner prepared for the occasion.
During the evening Mr. Morris said.
"Gentlemen, please fill your glasses for a toast. As I intend to toast a man you may not know, I deem it necessary, before mentioning his name, to tell you what sort of a man he is. ”

“ Here a gentleman entered the room, and to Reg's surprise Marjorie ran to him and said:
"Arthur, this is Mr. Morris."
[Pg 325] "Morris!" said he. "What! the real Morris? My dear sir, I am delighted to see you."
"That's my husband," said she, in answer to his look of enquiry, then added in a sad voice, "poor old Jones died a month before my leaving, he sent a short message to you,—it was: 'Tell Mr. Morris that he made me happy.' Poor old chap!"
"I am heartily glad to see that Mrs. Montague took my advice. It would have been a thousand pities had she buried her talent because of a scoundrel." ”

“ Morris met repeatedly at our house. We rarely received company in the evenings, therefore, they were always sure of being undisturbed. It was my father’s custom to retire early, and my good Aunt Mary is by nature unsuspicious and innocent as a child. She and I would sit in the library, sewing and knitting, listening to Meta’s merry talk; then, after Mr. Morris would join the circle, I generally proposed music, which made an excuse for Meta and her lover to go into the drawing-room, which opened on my library. Meta was a good musician, she played very finely, and had a beautiful voice. ”

“ I have seen Miss Porson’s photograph, a large one of her in Court dress, which stands in Mr. Monk’s laboratory (such a lovely place, it was an old chapel) . She is a beautiful woman; large and soft and regal-looking, a very woman; it would be difficult to imagine a better specimen of ‘the eternal feminine.’ Also, they say, that is, the nurse who is looking after my father says, that she is very rich and devoted to ‘Mr. Morris.’ So Mr. Morris is a lucky man. ”

“ MR. MORRIS’S POEMS
“Enough,” said the pupil of the wise Imlac, “you have convinced me that no man can be a poet.” The study of Mr. William Morris’s poems, in the new collected edition, {5} has convinced me that no man, or, at least, no middle-aged man, can be a critic. I read Mr. Morris’s poems (thanks to the knightly honours conferred on the Bard of Penrhyn, there is now no ambiguity as to ‘Mr. Morris’) , but it is not the book only that I read. The scroll of my youth is unfolded. I see the dear place where first I perused “The Blue Closet”; the old faces of old friends flock around me ”

“ He thinks, and he gives you something to think about as well. His own creed he has not taken upon trust, nor does he want you to do so either. He has a clear, definite conception of spiritual p. 124realities, and he aims to give you the same. Mr. Morris has not genius—but he has intellect clear and strong—perhaps a little deficient in fire, and a habit rare, but invaluable in a minister, of independent thought and action. As a preacher he ranks high in his denomination. Out of the pulpit he is almost unknown. As a platform orator I know not that he has any actual existence at all. ”

“ But at the sound of Forrest's step he turned an alert, close-cropped, gray head and stepped out of the embrasure.
"Mr. Ballin?" said Forrest.
"I am Mr. Ballin." His eyes perused the stranger with astonishing speed and deftness, without seeming to do so.
"It was the toss of a coin that decided me to come," said Forrest. "I have asked your butler to lay a place for me at luncheon."
So much assumption on the part of a stranger has a cheeky look in the printing. Yet Forrest's tone and manner far more resembled those of old friendship and intimacy than impertinence. ”

“ Who knows what that nigger's done When I look at Mr. Morris, I wish you fellers had overpowered me last night and had fixed things.”
He let his brother out at the back, then went round to the front gate, where he met the man whom he called Doty Buxton.
“Go telegraph Judge More the facts of the case,” he said, “an' ask him to come. I don't believe I'll need any men if he'll come; and besides, he and Mr. Morris are friends.”
As the man turned away, one of the horsemen rode up to the sheriff.
“We demand that negro,” he said. ”

“ He has gone through a very extensive course of reading, and is acquainted with all the sciences. No Man has more wit,—nor can any one engage the attention more than Mr Morris. He was bred to the Law, but I am told he disliked the profession, and turned Merchant. He is engaged in some great mercantile matters with his namesake, Mr Robt Morris. This Gentleman is about 38 years old, he has been unfortunate in losing one of his Legs, and getting all the flesh taken off his right arm by a scald, when a youth."—Pierce's Notes, Am. ”

“ I said to Morris—
"We are now saved, Morris, and if you are not going to eat your piece of carraway seed cake, I should very much like to."
And he said—
"You can eat everything. I have such a fealing of thankfulness to be saved, that I couldn't eat for the moment, empty as I am. Besides there will be supper provided."
A man shouted above us and I heard the hated voice of Waxy West.
"Be you little devils down there?" he cried out.
"Yes, we are, Mr West," I answered him very loud. "We're doing no harm at all—merely waiting quietly to be resqued. ”

“ Morris was as dead as Queen Anne, that the soubriquet was a libel, and that the “John Morris” of his innocent youth-hood had risen from the dead. Latterly the ex-poacher had sought with much success to gather employment as a farrier, and there seemed to be a reasonable prospect of prosperity in that particular line. John Morris asked permission to address the meeting; in feeling strains that held his hearers spell-bound, he recounted his strange and startling experience. He told the story of the brickbat, and pointed, with tears in his eyes, to the scar on Mr. Clayton’s face ”

“ At dinner one evening in George Street, Prinsep said something, whether intentionally or not, which offended Morris. Every one expected an outburst of fury. But by a prodigious effort of self-control Morris swallowed his anger, and only bit his fork—one of the common four-pronged fiddle-pattern kind—which was crushed and twisted about almost beyond recognition. During these months, too, he was feeling his way in other arts and handicrafts: carving a block of freestone into a capital of foliage and birds, done with great spirit and life, Mr. Arthur Hughes says ”

“ I have engaged him to take care of my rooms, his name is Morris, but upon account of his skill in many arts he has received from the public the title of professor," said Ishmael, turning an affectionate look upon the old odd-job man.
"How do you do, Professor Morris? We are very glad to see you, I am sure; and we hope you will find yourself comfortable, and also that you will be a comfort to Mr. Worth, who is a very estimable young gentleman indeed," said Miss Jenny, speaking for herself and sister. ”

“ Morris, I’m a good deal troubled about you, and would do you good for my Master’s sake, even if I knew that you would fling that brickbat at the other cheek. Oh, Morris!” said he, earnestly, laying his hand upon the young man’s arm; “for your patient mother’s sake, for your own soul’s sake, for your loving Saviour’s sake, give up this bad and wasted life of yours; turn your back on the evil companions that are dragging you to ruin, and give your heart to Jesus, who died upon the cross for you.”
Not one word did Black Morris utter in reply. Mr. ”

“ Alban's, was a man of high attainment and character, whose influence over his pupil was great, and with whom in later years Morris kept up a cordial friendship. He was then assistant master of the Forest School at Walthamstow, to the head-mastership of which he succeeded a few years later, and took a few private pupils in his house at Hoe Street. Morris was with him for nearly a year. Mr. Guy was a High Churchman of the best type, a friend and kindred spirit of Dean Church, and a man of wide sympathies and cultivated taste, with an unusually large knowledge of painting and architecture. ”

“ Mr. M. Algy Pop-eyes Montague! be still! Here, Toby, hand Miss Morris her plate.
Algy. Don't you do it, Toby!
Mrs. M. Hush up, you naughty boy!
Mr. M. Mr. Morris, here's some meat for you.
Mrs. M. Take some macaroni, Mr. Morris; it's real good.
Mr. Morris. Thank you, ma'am; I think I will.
So the company were helped; though, as the meat and vegetables were glued fast to the dishes they [72] were on, I'm afraid they must have had rather a slim dinner.
Then Maggie went on.
Miss Isabella. Mr. Morris, I think I am rather tired of that uniform of yours; it makes you look too high in the neck. ”

“ Burne-Jones and his wife—he had been married that June—spent their Sundays there almost regularly. Rossetti, Faulkner and his two sisters, Webb, Swinburne, Madox Brown, Arthur Hughes, were also frequent and welcome visitors. Mr. Hughes remembers once riding down from London, and Morris riding back a good part of the way with him next day. In summer bowls were always played a great deal; and drives were taken about the country in a carriage which Morris had specially built for himself, with leather curtains, and a decided flavour of the Middle Ages about it. ”

“ There were moralists without sense, and country squires without acquaintance; beaux without a thought, and belles without a partner. We hastened to make a closer study of the various characters which presented themselves.
We first addressed ourselves to Mr. Morris, a respectable Member of Parliament, with whom we had become ac [Pg 59] quainted the year before in Norfolk. “What! you’re not a dancer, Mr. Morris?” we began. “By the Lord, sir,” he returned, “if this Bill passes——” We passed on, much vexed that we had intruded on our worthy friend’s solitude. ”

“ This last was spoken interrogatively, and Morris replied: "There is nothing wrong or wicked in going without one's coat. Everything depends upon the circumstances under which it is done. For me to appear at table in my shirt sleeves would be very impolite; but for an old man like Uncle Ephraim, who has done it all his life and who never gave it a thought, would, in my estimation, be a very different thing. Still, Mr. Cameron may see from another standpoint. ”

“ In the early winter months of 1883 the Democratic Federation had arranged some meetings at the Westminster Palace Chambers. I attended the first of those meetings (I forget the exact date) , Mr. Hyndman in the chair. The order of the day was the passing of some resolutions on the question of education, normal working-day, and the housing of the working classes. The business had scarcely been started when Banner, who sat behind me, passed me a slip of paper, 'The third man to your right is William Morris.' I had read of but never seen Morris before, and I looked at once in the direction given. ”