Let the box-room or garret be thoroughly turned out and investigated once every three months; keep there all pieces of paper similar to the papers on your walls for mending purposes, and any travelling trunks or boxes that may be wanted; but do not accumulate rubbish of any kind. Even sentimental rubbish should be destroyed at once; when we die it will be done by hands which are not as tender as ours are, and no good is done by hoarding all sorts and kinds of letters and flowers, or even babies’ first shoes. They may mean life itself to us; they will be nothing but the veriest rubbish to our successors. Standing as it were in the garret, our long work of revising and writing this book at last drawing to a conclusion, and feeling sad, as one always feels when parting with an occupation that has been on one’s mind for many a month, I should like to say a few words on that saddest of all subjects, a death in the house--only a few words; but a house that has never known a death is indeed an almost impossible thing to contemplate, and so our record would not be complete without this. Thank Heaven, we look out with brighter eyes on the other country than did our ancestors, but we have still many customs to leave off, many others we could adopt with benefit from the relics of past days. I would advocate great cheerfulness about our dead. They should never be left alone, and candles and bright flowers should fill the room; where, had I my way, the blessed sunshine should stream in always, gloom should be discouraged, and the service with its music and the coloured pall should suggest not our grief but the gain of those who, even to the agnostic of the period, appear at rest, and can most certainly never weary or hunger any more; while to us who hope to look beyond these shadows their happiness should overshadow our grief entirely. Still, whichever way we look on the silence that surrounds our little life, there are certain things that I would urge on the survivors. Let all the personal linen and garments of the dead friend be at once sent to Kilburn, or to Miss Hinton’s, A. F. D. Society, 4 York Place, Clifton. These garments are distributed at once among the families of poor clergymen, and so immediately benefit a most deserving class. Do not permit any hoarding (I once knew a whole valuable wardrobeful of clothes consumed by the moth, because the widow’s feelings did not allow of the garments being disturbed, though they were not too acute to prevent her becoming engaged to be married before the year was out); and, above all, burn all letters that may be left _unread_; this will save endless mischief, and should be done at once. No one knows who may be the next to depart and be no more seen, and so this should not be delayed any longer than is possible.