The Life of Sir Rowland Hill and the

DEATH IN THE FAMILY GROUP. 425
in whose skill he had great trust. He had, indeed, he
answered, wished to send for him. As, however, his
own doctor had not , suggested it, he had not said
anything for fear of hurting his feelings. A day
or two later he begged me to go and see him. I
found him in bed, and very weak. He did not think,
he said, that he was dying, but it might be that he
really was. It had always been his habit, he added,
throughout life to prepare for every contingency, and
therefore he wished to see me now. What he said
could not, for the present at least, fitly be set before
the reader. He showed, however, that in the blow
that had thus suddenly fallen upon himself, his feelings
and his fears were all for those who had so long been
dear to him.
Such a life as this, secluded though it was, could
not be free from the losses that are common to
the race. The old family group began to grow
thin before his eyes. His two elder brothers went
first, to be followed before long by his only surviving
sister. They, however, had all reached a ripe age.
In the death of his eldest daughter, and of more than
one of his grandchildren, he felt the far deeper sorrow
that comes on the old when they see the young
gathered to the grave before them. He would tell
with sad pride how one of these little ones had once
had the courage to call him to account. The child,
who was but three years old, one day when playing
with his elder brother, had seen his grandfather give a
little dog a slight blow with a switch :
"The hall being rather dusk, their grandfather did not perceive
that the two boys were there, or he would not, in their presence,
have struck Trottie. Later in the evening the children came to say
good-night, and were leaving the room when he noticed signs of
hesitation, followed by a whispered consultation outside the half-