humility, and although a great scholar and bearing many university honours, he never showed any consciousness of superiority.
His earnest desire to die in harness kept him working longer than some of his friends thought advisable. In 1898, very much against his will, he was compelled through ill-health to resign his bishopric. His strength had materially diminished so as to interfere with the conscientious performance of his duties. In the interests of his Master's work it was imperative to make way for a younger and a stronger man. He had a great horror of being termed 'a returned empty,' a disrespectful appellation employed at one time towards colonial bishops who had retired. He openly expressed a hope that he might never come under that category, but that he might be numbered among those bishops who had died in harness and been buried in the land where they had laboured.
Bishop Gell was not without a quiet sense of humour which lightened many a contretemps in travelling. Mr. Morley was equally blessed with good spirits.
A clever attentive servant was for many years the personal attendant of the bishop. This man's name was Moonaswamy, a very common appellation among natives. When he entered the episcopal household there was already a Moonaswamy established. The bishop overheard his sister discussing the new boy's name and the difficulty of having two Moonaswamys in the house. He solved the knotty point by suggesting that the later arrival should be called Sunnaswamy, a nickname adopted at once by the 'boy' with great pride.
Another native servant claimed to have received his name from Bishop Gell. This man was unusually tall, so tall that he at last acquired a stoop from habitually bending his head to avoid having his turban swept off by the swinging punkahs. When the bishop was on tour he
