come on ; wherefore talk you so long with that priest? You have no need of a priest yet:" and laughed upon him, as though he would say, "You shall have need of one soon." But little wist the other what he meant, (but on night these words were well remembered by them who heard them ;) so the true Lord Hastings little mistrusted, and was never merrier, nor thought his life in more surety in all his days: which thing is often a sign of change but I shall rather let anything pass me than the vain surety of man's mind so near his death; for upon the very Tower wharf, so near the place where his head was off so soon after as a man might well cast a ball, a pursuivant of his own, called Hastings, met with him, and of their meeting in that place he was put in remembrance of another time in which it happened them to meet before together in the place, at which time the Lord Hastings had been accused to King Edward by the Lord Rivers, the queen's brother, insomuch that he was for a while, which lasted not long, highly in the king's indignation. As he now met the same pursuivant in the same place, the jeopardy so well passed, it gave him great pleasure to talk with him thereof, with whom he had talked in the same place of that matter, and therefore he said, "Ah, Hastings, art thou remembered how I met thee here once with a heavy heart?" "Yea, my lord, (quoth he,) that I remember well, and thanked be God they got no good nor you no harm thereby." Thou wouldst say so, (quoth he,) if thou knowest so much as I do, which few know yet, and more shall shortly." That meant he, that the Earl Rivers, and the Lord Richard, and Sir Thomas Vaughan should that day be beheaded at Pomfret, as they were in deed; which act he wist well should be done, but nothing ware that the axe hung so near his own head. "In faith, man, (quoth he,) I was never so sorry nor never stood in so great danger of my life, as I did when thou and I met here; and lo! the world is turned now; now stand mine enemies in the danger, as thou mayest hap to hear more hereafter, and I never in my life merrier, nor never in so great surety." "I pray God it prove so," (quoth Hastings.) "Prove! (quoth he,) doubtest thou that? nay, nay, I wariant thee." And so in manner dis pleased he entered into the Tower, where he was not long on life, as you have heard. O Lord God, the blindness of our mortal nature! when he most feared, he was in most surety; and, when he reckoned himself most surest, he lost his life, and that within two hours after. Thus ended this honourable man: a good knight, and gentle, of great authority with his prince, of living somewhat dissolute, plain and open to his enemy, and sure and secret to his friend, easy to beguile, as he that of good heart and courage foresaw no perils, a loving man, and passing well-beloved, very faithful and trusty enough; but trusting too much was his destruction, as you may perceive. The Doctor's Family Feeling. "It behoves the high SOUTHEY. For their own sakes to do things worthily."-Ben Jonson. There never No son ever regarded the memory of his father with more reverential affection than this last of the Doves.* lived a man, he said, to whom the lines of Marcus Antonius Flaininius (the sweetest of all Latin poets in modern times, or per haps of any age) could more truly be applied. "Vixisti, genitor, bene, ac beate, Nec pauper, neque dives; eruditus Satis, et satis eloquens; valente Semper corpore, mente sanâ; amicis "What if he could not with the Heveninghams of Suffolk count * This extract, and that numbered 296, are taken from that singular work entitled, "The Doctor,' '—now acknowledged as the work of the late Mi Southey. It is a book that will delight many a student from its curious learning; and furnish amusement and instruction to all those for whom quaintness and simplicity have a higher charm than ornate periods. +"Thou hast lived, my ancestor, well and happily, neither poor nor rich; learned enough, eloquent enough; ever with a sound mind in a sound body, delightful to thy friends, eminent in thy piety." five and twenty knights of his family, or tell sixteen knights successively with the Tilneys of Norfolk, or with the Nauntons show where his ancestors had seven hundred pounds a year before the Conquest," he was, and with as much, or perhaps more, reason, contented with his parentage. Indeed his family feeling was so strong, that if he had been of an illustrious race, pride, he acknowledged, was the sin that would have most easily beset him; though on the other hand, to correct this tendency, he thought that there could be no such persuasive preachers as old family portraits, and old monuments in the family church. He was far, however, from thinking that those who are born to all the advantages, as they are commonly esteemed, of rank and fortune, are better placed for the improvement of their moral and intellectual nature than those in a lower grade. Fortunatos nimium sua si bona nórint! he used to say of this class, but this is a knowledge which they seldom possess; and it is rare indeed to find an instance in which the high privileges which hereditary wealth conveys are understood by the possessors, and rightly appreciated and put to their proper use. The one and the two talents are, (Oh! bright occasions of dispensing good, in general, more profitably occupied than the five; the five indeed are not often tied up in a napkin, but still less often are they faithfully employed in the service of that Lord from whom they are received in trust, and to whom an account of them must be rendered. "A man of family and estate," said Johnson, ought to consider himself as having the charge of a district over which he is to diffuse civility and happiness.”—Are there fifty men of family and estate in the three kingdoms who feel and act as if this were their duty-Are there five and forty-Thirty-Twenty-Or can it be said with any probability of belief that "peradventure ten shall be found there?" * Fuller. **** 20 Here in England stood a village, within the memory of man,— no matter where,-close by the castle of a noble proprietor,—no matter who, il figlio Del tale, ed il nipote del cotale, The noble pro It contained about threescore houses, and every cottager had ground enough for keeping one or two cows. prietor looked upon these humble tenements as an eye-sore; and one by one, as opportunity offered, he purchased them, till at length he became owner of the whole, one field excepted, which belonged to an old Quaker. The old man resisted many offers, but at last he was induced to exchange it for a larger and better piece of land in another place. No sooner had this transaction been completed, than the other occupants, who were now only tenants at will, received notice to quit; the houses were demolished, the enclosures levelled, hearthsteads and homesteads, the cottage garden and the cottage field, disappeared, and the site was in part planted, in part thrown into the park. The Quaker, who, unlike Naboth, had parted with the inheritance of his fathers, was a native of the village; but he knew not how dearly he was attached to it till he saw its demolition; it was his fault, he said; and if he had not exchanged his piece of ground, he should never have lived to see his native place destroyed. He took it deeply to heart; it preyed upon his mind, and he soon lost his senses, and died. I tell the story as it was related, within sight of the spot, by a husbandman who knew the place and the circumstances, and well remembered that many people used to come every morning from the adjacent parts to buy milk there,-"a quart of new milk for a halfpenny, and a quart of old given with it." * In noble and illustrious blood,-in men of high birth,-all baseness dis plays itself more evidently than it would in those of low station. The son of this, and the nephew of that, having for his mother such a one Naboth has been named in relating this, but the reader will not suppose that I have any intention of comparing the great proprietor to Ahab,-or to William the Conqueror. There was nothing unjust in his proceedings, nothing iniquitous; and (though there may have been a great want of proper feeling) nothing cruel. I am not aware that any hardship was inflicted upon the families who were ejected, further than the inconvenience of a removal. He acted as most persons in the same circumstances probably would have acted, and no doubt he thought that his magnificent habitation was greatly improved by the demolition of the poor dwellings which had neighboured it so closely. Further, it may be said in his justification, (for which I would leave nothing unsaid,) that very possibly the houses had not sufficient appearance of neatness and comfort to render them agreeable objects; that the people may have been in no better state of manners and morals than villagers commonly are, which is saying that they were bad enough; that the filth of their houses was thrown into the road; and that their pigs, and their children, who were almost as unclean, ran loose there. Add to this, if you please, that though they stood in fear of their great neighbour, there may have been no attachment to him, and little feeling of good-will. But I will tell you how Dr Dove would have proceeded if he had been the hereditary lord of that castle and that domain. He would have considered that this village was originally placed there for the sake of the security which the castle afforded. Times had changed, and with them the relative duties of the peer and of the peasantry: he no longer required their feudal services, and they no longer stood in need of his protection. The more, therefore, according to his "way of thinking," was it to be desired that other relations should be strengthened, and the bond of mutual good-will be more closely intertwined. He would have looked upon these villagers as neighbours, in whose welfare and good conduct he was especially interested, and over whom it was in his power to exercise a most salutary and beneficial influence; and, having this power, he would have known that it was his duty so to use it. He would have established a school in the village, |