It is easy to discover such ugly facts as have just been disclosed. But love and gratitude are certainly more frequent. In many cases we see a picture of sweet and gentle family life, or of tender and affectionate regard. It is delightful to meet in modern wills, as one often may, expressions of passionate devotion and admiration for a wife or husband. And in old wills we have many a charming picture suggested. Sir Hugh Cholmley, a prominent figure in Whitby in the seventeenth century, gives “to my dear brother, Sir Henry Cholmley, my bay bald Barbary mare, called Spanker,” “to my dear daughter-in-law, wife to my son William Cholmley, the green cloth hangings wrought with needlework, which I desire her to esteem because they were wrought by my dear wife and her servants when we were first housekeepers,” and “to my dear sister, Mrs. Jane Twysden, wife to my brother Serjeant Twysden, a little gold pot of ten pounds price, with hearty thanks and acknowledgments for her many favours and kindnesses to myself and children.”

John Pybus, who died in June, 1789, appears to have had a felicitous family life, and though the language is the language of the eighteenth century, the feeling would seem to be sincere and deep. “I also give and bequeath unto my said wife the sum of £200, ... hereby declaring, as in justice I think due to her, the very high opinion I entertain of her temper and disposition, and how much I think myself obliged to her for the very dutiful tender and affectionate conduct she has ever given proofs of both as a wife and mother, during the whole course of our matrimonial connection now nearly thirty-four years.” It is an echo of the words of Robert Sanderson, Bishop of Lincoln, who died on January 29, 1662, leaving his residuary estate “to my very loving and dearly beloved wife, with whom I have lived almost three and forty years in perfect amity, and with much comfort.” Philip Doddridge, D.D., a testator who had the knack of making his will interesting, has a special paragraph about his wife: “And I hereby recommend her to the divine supporting presence and care during the short separation which her great love to me will, I fear, render too painful to her, praying earnestly that God may succeed her pious care in the education of our dear children that they may be happy for time and for eternity.” His tender love is seen also in the superscription to a letter found among his MSS. “To my trusty and well beloved Mrs. Mercy Doddridge, the dearest of all dears, the wisest of all my earthly councillors, and of all my governours the most potent, yet the most gentle and moderate” (1741).

The will of the Rt. Hon. Mary Countess Dowager of De la Warr affords another example of affection from the eighteenth century. It is written (as will be seen) in the form of a letter to her son, in the course of which she says: “The silver cup given by your grandfather to my dear and most lamented son William Lord De la Warr I bequeath to you with my blessing, which no son was ever more entitled to receive from a fond mother than yourself; may it prove propitious to you, and that every affectionate attention shown to me may be returned to you by your children, that you may have the happiness and satisfaction of knowing how much comfort your behaviour administered to me who must long since have sunk under the weight of such repeated misfortunes, had they not been alleviated by the kindnesses of you and my dearest Georgiana.”

Sarah Wills of Bristol, whose will is dated October 30, 1797, writes with similar intimacy of feeling. “It is with a deep sense of gratitude I acknowledge the kindness of my dear son, and happy should I think myself if I had it in my power to reward him to my utmost wish, but I trust that God who have so wonderfully blest him will never forsake him, and also trust that he’ll never forsake the God of his mercies; He who have been the guide of his youth, may He be the support of his more advanced years. And may he ever show the utmost kindness to his truly affectionate sister, for such she is: show her all tenderness, and as you are so blest in worldly goods the little matter I call mine can’t be of much use to you, but to her it is, and she have been a tender child to me. If there is any little article that my beloved son likes, have it. I only say again I feel gratitude for your great goodness to me, and it melts me to think of it, and happy should I think myself to make you an ample return; but accept of my sincerest thanks, and be assured it is more blessed to give than receive, Your affectionate mother, S. Wills.”

As a final instance of family affection the following expression of gratitude, interesting in that the person eulogised was afterwards Archbishop of York, must not be overlooked. The testator, Major William Markham, died in 1771, and on the 21st of January, 1780, administration with the will was granted to his son, then William, Lord Archbishop of York. He says: “My reason for thus forming my will is founded upon a principle of gratitude to my eldest son, whose interest restored me when reduced to my majority in Major General Lascelles’ regiment. To the same interest I owe the liberty I had from His Majesty of selling my majority at the best advantage, without which liberty I could have never sold and consequently never have been master of said money, which I now gratefully return to him who in a manner gave it. The said William Markham’s interest brought me out of captivity to London, from which time I am obliged to acknowledge I have entirely lived on him. I should be very remiss in not mentioning one remarkable instance of his generosity, which was when the Duke of Buccleugh asked Dr. Markham, then only a student in Christchurch, how he could serve him he instantly answered ‘by recommending my father Major Markham to His Majesty for a Lieutenant Colonelcy.’ But the greatest obligation I lie under to Dr. Markham is for his having made an ample provision for my two younger sons George and Enoch, whom I most heartily recommend to his further care and patronage, which I am fully persuaded is quite unnecessary to mention.”

The Archbishop who earned such gratitude from his father was buried in Westminster Abbey on November 11, 1807, aged eighty-nine, and a monument was raised to his memory by his grandchildren. He was a man of character, “a pompous and warm-tempered prelate, with a magnificent presence and almost martial bearing.” He is described by Walpole as “a pert, arrogant man,” and as “that warlike metropolitan Archbishop Turpin.” Bentham gives an earlier and equally curious portrait of him as head master of Westminster School. Bentham was at Westminster 1755 to 1760. “Our great glory was Dr. Markham; he was a tall, portly man, and ‘high he held his head.’ He married a Dutch woman who brought him a considerable fortune. He had a large quantity of classical knowledge. His business was rather in courting the great than in attending to the school. Any excuse served his purpose for deserting his post. He had a great deal of pomp, especially when he lifted his hand, waved it, and repeated Latin verses. If the boys performed their tasks well, it was well; if ill, it was not the less well. We stood prodigiously in awe of him; indeed, he was an object of adoration.”

Gifts with expressions of love and gratitude are common outside the family. Recently legacies were left to children of a confectioner “in appreciation of their attention to my luncheon wants for twenty years.” A large estate was bequeathed to the widow of a medical attendant “in consideration of her husband’s constant kindness and attention to me both personally and professionally.” Certain silver articles were left to one “who has been for many years a most kind and sympathetic friend, passing many dull weary hours with me listening to my griefs and worries.” Of interest is a recent bequest in a builder’s will, who left a sum sufficient to put into proper repair and to provide in perpetuity for the maintenance and gardening and carpet bedding of the grave of his first partner, “for whom,” he says, “I entertain the highest respect and regard.”

Florence Nightingale left several bequests, expressing affection and gratitude therewith. Two friends she was determined not to leave unmentioned, although they had predeceased her. “To my beloved and revered friends, Mr. Charles H. Bracebridge, and his wife, my more than mother, without whom Scutari and my life could not have been, and to whom nothing that I can say or do would in the least express my thankfulness, I should have left some token of my remembrance, had they, as I expected, survived me.”

These are recent instances, but we may cull them from old records too. Thomas Avery, of Dolton in Devon, made a nuncupative will on May 21, 1634. He gave “unto Edward Levaton and Elizabeth Warre, in respect of their pains they had taken with him, the said deceased, and out of his love and affection unto them in regard he had brought them up in his own house and that they had been long with him and had taken pains about his work and had travelled about his business and occasion, the sum of £100 apiece”; the residue to his brother John “in regard of his brotherly love and affection unto him, and in respect and recompense of his said brother’s travail and pains which he had undergone and taken for him, the said deceased, when none other of his kindred would do anything for him.” Philip Doddridge in a codicil says: “And as the providence of God hath been pleased to give me a particular interest in the friendship of the truly honourable George Littleton, Esquire, I beg he would please to accept five guineas to buy him a ring, which I desire him to wear at least ten days in every year from the 19th of January, (that ever memorable day,) in memory of the unfeigned affection that has subsisted between us.” In his will he gives £5 to Elizabeth Bagnal “as a token of the affectionate care she took of my eldest child during her last illness, a tender circumstance which it is not possible for me ever to forget.”

Such are examples of individual regard. There are wills where the whole tone is beautiful, the whole ordered with serene affection and satisfaction. Too long to be quoted in full, the complete picture cannot be given, but some more extracts from the same John Pybus may give an idea of his affections and friendships. He begins: “I John Pybus, of Old Bond Street in the parish of St. George, Hanover Square, ... being of sound and disposing mind and memory, but subject to frequent and severe infirmities which may suddenly deprive me of existence, think it necessary to make and declare this my last will and testament.” After the eulogy of his wife, and after exhorting his children “to behave with the same degree of attention tenderness and affection towards her during the remainder of her life as she has ever manifested towards them, as they shall hope to meet with the like behaviour from their children, should it ever please God to bless them with any,” he continues: “And to my dearly beloved daughter Catherine Amelia I give and bequeath as a small but very inadequate proof of the very great affection I bear her my own picture, a ¾ length leaning on a crutch stick or cane, painted by Stuart, and a ¾ length picture of her mother lately painted by the same hand, and my harpsichord by Shudi and Broadwood, being a remarkable fine-toned instrument, which will I hope be an inducement to her to spare no pains or application to improve herself in music, as her dear sister Lady Fletcher has done, not only as being in itself a most desirable accomplishment, but one that will afford her an inexhaustible fund of the most pleasing kind of amusement and entertainment as long as she lives.... I flatter myself with hope that my said son Charles Small Pybus will give unremitted assiduity and application to the study and profession of the law, wherein without such application it will be in vain to hope for or expect success, and to which he hath in a dutiful conformity to my wishes and advice, and as I hope from inclination likewise, hitherto closely attended to his edification and my comfort, not doubting but a continuation of this line of conduct will with his talents and abilities be eventually most amply rewarded.... And whereas my very much esteemed and respected friend Mrs. Amelia Rous, wife to my worthy friend Thos. Bates Rous Esq^r. and sister to my dear wife, was so obliging at my particular request as to sit to Mr. Joachim Smith of Bonner Street for the model of her bust to be taken by him in wax, which he has executed with very great success by taking a striking resemblance of her, and as I have ever considered myself as having been very instrumental in promoting the happy union between her and her husband, and have with very real pleasure lived to see them pass many years together with the most apparent proof of mutual cordiality and affection, I do hereby therefore give and bequeath unto the said Thos. Bates Rous the aforesaid waxen model or bust of his said dear wife Amelia, in testimony of my regard for him, and the respect I have for his domestic character which has induced me to consider him as the best entitled to this striking resemblance of his said dear wife, and whereon I have ever set a very high value.

“I also give and bequeath unto Mr. Hollingbery, an officer in the Royal Navy, the sum of 20 guineas for mourning, most sincerely wishing him health happiness and prosperity through life, trusting his behaviour will continue to be such as to merit success and do credit to the assistance I afforded him on his first setting out in the world, which I reflect on with the most real satisfaction.”

So John Pybus looks upon the world with a benignant and beneficent eye, happy in his family and his friends, in his life and in his death.