My mother’s parents died before I was born; but I remember my father’s parents very well indeed. I used to come down here to stay with them; and I see that my first visit was in 1861. My grandmother lived from 1781 till 1866, and my grandfather from 1789 till 1870. As a boy, he used to stay here with his mother’s parents; and he has told me of many things he did here then, such as helping his grandfather to plant the great walnut-tree, when he was seven years old--which is now 120 years ago. His grandmother, Honor Gribble, died here in 1799; and his grandfather, Nelson Beveridge Gribble, left the place in 1800. The property passed from Nelson Beveridge Gribble to his eldest son, John Gribble. After John’s death in 1837, his widow let the house to my grandfather; and in this quiet place he dreamed away the last thirty years of his life. At times he looked as though he were a little weary of it all; and in a book of his I found this note:--“16 April 1869. My birthday--now 80 years old--and have no wish to see another. My good wishes to all behind.” In the following March he would persist in sitting out upon the seat behind the sun-dial, to listen to the black-birds and the thrushes, although the winds were bleak and cold; and there he caught the chill of which he died. He did not see another birthday. In his last illness he was nursed by Mrs *****; and thirty years and more afterwards she was very fond of discussing with me what had happened to him--whether he had gone to Heaven or elsewhere. She would weigh the two sides of the question very carefully, and finish up with “Well, I _hope_ he be in Heaven.” She had no doubts about her own destination, and very often told me that she needed no parsons to hoist her into Heaven. But she was not in any hurry to get there. Looking out across her garden on a gorgeous summer afternoon, she turned to me, and said, “I were just a-wonderin’ if Heaven be so very much better ’an this: ’cause, aless it were, I don’t know as I’d care for the change.” One thing, however, troubled her--the old belief that people who die before the prime of life, remain for all eternity at the age at which they die, whereas people who die in later years, go back to their prime. And she told me of the difficulties that she foresaw:--“If I went back to what I were like some forty year agone, how could they as only knowed me afterward come forth and say ‘Why, here be Mrs *****’, when I came steppin’ up?” As for my grandfather, his Works were undeniable; but she had her doubts about his Faith. He was interested and amused by the controversies that raged around religion, and thought the kettle might be better than the pot, yet had no wish for being boiled in either. I doubt if he had any beliefs beyond a shadowy sort of Theism that was not far removed from Pantheism. And that made him a very kindly personage, doing all manner of good.