Classics and the Western Canon discussion

Three Love Problems -- sounds more like Austen than Eliot, eh?

But the first thing that happens is not a love story at all, but almost the opposite of one -- Featherstone's will is read, and Fred Vincy's hopes, dreams, and, yes, it's fair to say expectations are dashed. Out of the woodwork, almost, creeps the frog-eyed stranger to scoop the pot. We feel (at least I feel) sorry for Fred, but very pleased to see the hovering relatives get mud in their eyes. Tee hee!

But what now for Fred? The church after all? And the loss of any inheritance puts a major damper on his hopes to marry Mary Garth. Our first love problem -- what will happen to this young couple? Will love find a way? Will Fred ever mature enough to deserve Mary? Will Mary ever think Fred has become steady enough to marry and raise a family with?

Meanwhile, Brooke goes broke for politics (not literally, but it was too good a pun to pass over) and hires Ladislaw to edit the Pioneer and pump up Brooke for Parliament. But Ladislaw continues to irk Casaubon (not, perhaps, without good reason, one of the few situations where he seems to see more clearly than Dorothea), and one of the love problems seems to be what's going on between Dorothea and Casaubon.

And Lydgate prepares for a marriage which he can ill afford and which Vincy now makes clear that he will not assist with. In fact, he tries to quash the marriage, but Rosamond has her mind set, and when her mind is set logic and reason seem to have no sway, do they?

All in all, events in the lives of our characters are moving along, and our Study of Provincial Life offers much of interest to discuss.

Great summary Everyman and much food for thought!

I love how Eliot compares the Featherstone relatives to vultures but I am still having a difficult time figuring out why old Mr. Featherstone had 2 wills. I am waiting to see if this is just something to get the interest of the reader or if there is more meaning to it that we will find out later. If it is just a ploy to get the interest of the reader I will probably reduce the amount of stars I give this book.

It seems like we are making George Eliot a cross between Victor Hugo and Jane Austen. I am not sure Victor Hugo would appreciate that.

Dianna wrote: "I love how Eliot compares the Featherstone relatives to vultures but I am still having a difficult time figuring out why old Mr. Featherstone had 2 wills. I am waiting to see if this is just somet..."

Yes, I love the beginning of Chapter 35:-

'When the animals entered the Ark in pairs, one may imagine that allied species made much private remark on each other, and were tempted to think that so many forms feeding on the same store of fodder were eminently superfluous, as tending to diminish the rations. (I fear the part played by the vultures on that occasion would be too painful for art to represent, those birds being disadvantageously naked about the gullet, and apparently without rites and ceremonies.)

The same sort of temptation befell the Christian Carnivora who formed Peter Featherstone's funeral procession; most of them having their minds bent on a limited store which each would have liked to get the most of....'

Ah the Wills!! Mr Featherstone had made a Codicil to his first Will but had instructed Mary to tear it up. But she didn't and so there were two wills upon his death. The later one with the codicil, favouring his unknown son Joshua, was the one which prevailed. Mary Garth had the opportunity to destroy the Codicil but she was too honest and so she has blighted Fred Vincy's fortunes and her own as they are now both out of work.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Codicil_...

Whether or not Mary was right in refusing to tear up the Codicil is a moot point because if it was Featherstone's wish to reinstate Fred in his will, or to bequeath her his money, she was thwarting his last wishes (Chap 33). Featherstone was in love with Mary himself, which is perhaps why he wrote Fred out of his will, before, presumably, having second thoughts on his deathbed.

You think Featherstone loved Mary? Was he capable of love?

Madge UK wrote: Featherstone was in love with Mary himself, which is perhaps why he wrote Fred out of his will, before, presumably, having second thoughts on his deathbed.


I totally missed this! Featherstone treated her worse than a hired servant. However I’ve got to admit that the part where Featherstone is requesting Mary to help him burn one of the wills and even take his money is confusing to me; I’m hoping more will come out later on in the story and that Mary will benefit from her honesty and faithful attendance to Featherstone.

Dianna wrote: "I love how Eliot compares the Featherstone relatives to vultures but I am still having a difficult time figuring out why old Mr. Featherstone had 2 wills. I am waiting to see if this is just somet..."

I think it reflects his toying with Fred, knowing that he had the choice of whether to leave him a considerable fortune, or nothing at all. I can imagine him going back and forth between those choices as Fred's attentions to Featherstone appeared, at least to Featherstone, to wax and wane. I see him as a somewhat sour, lonely old man who has very little but his money to recommend him to anybody. I don't see anybody who likes him (and I don't see any reason why anybody would. One does wonder what he was like in his youth -- whether he was always so sour, or whether life soured him).

But I don't think it's just a ploy on Eliot's part. I think it is intended to give us insight into Featherstone's character. We've had Fred's opinion of his relationship to Featherstone pretty well laid out earlier; now we get the other side of the coin.

And in what a state of frustration Featherstone must have died, having finally decided in last moments that he did really want to leave Fred a relatively wealthy man, and being balked in that by a slip of a girl who should have been obeying him but wouldn't. The apoplexy that must have engendered in him may have hastened his death.

MadgeUK wrote: "...Featherstone was in love with Mary himself,..."

Interesting. I had never looked at their relationship that way. If that's the way his love manifests itself, I'm glad he never loved me!

I don't think Featherstone was in love with Mary at all; I think he just enjoyed manipulating people and playing one against the other.

Do you think maybe Featherstone saw himself in Fred before he turned into an evil ogre?

Everyman wrote: "MadgeUK wrote: "...Featherstone was in love with Mary himself,..."

Interesting. I had never looked at their relationship that way. If that's the way his love manifests itself, I'm glad he never ..."

I didn't get the impression that he was in love with her too.

Dianna wrote: "Do you think maybe Featherstone saw himself in Fred before he turned into an evil ogre?"

That's an interesting speculation. Do you find anything in the text that suggests this?

Well, I can't think of anything in particular right now but he was fond of Fred and the guy didn't seem to be fond of many people. I know that sometimes when I see parts of myself in a relative like a neice or nephew I tend to have a little more affinity for them.

Everyman wrote: "MadgeUK wrote: "...Featherstone was in love with Mary himself,..."

Interesting. I had never looked at their relationship that way. If that's the way his love manifests itself, I'm glad he never ..."

I'm probably wrong. No evidence for this idea, just that he treats her so badly and writes Fred out of his will for no apparent reason.

I am reposting a post that Madge made but am deleting a few words which represent a minor spoiler about an event yet to come. I emphasize that Madge gets credit for this post.

Thinking further about Featherstone's will, I guess his primary aim was to frustrate his relatives and it is perhaps significant that his illegitimate son is called 'Rigg', because he 'rigs' his will in his favour. Despite Featherstone's attempt to hold on to his wealth posthumously, he is frustrated in this by [reference to an event in future chapter deleted:]. Even his last ditch attempt to gain forgiveness by revoking his will in favour of Fred failed. A lifetime of meanness and using his wealth to manipulate people finally comes home to roost - for him there is truth in the parable that it is easier for the camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. The last nail in his coffin is when his son sells his birthright, thereby emulating Esau. Eliot allows no redemption for Featherstone, who 'had not been in the least anxious about his soul and had declined to see Mr Tucker on the subject' (Chap 33.) Mmmmmm....the epigram is apt: 'Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close/And let us all to meditation'...'

Why does Mary refuse to help Featherstone replace his will anyway? I don't get that. She has some high-minded moral scruple, but I don't see what's so high-minded about refusing to help a dying man of sound mind to change the disposition of his property..

Why did Featherstone not ask Mary to get the lawyer/notary or someone else besides Fred to witness modifications he wanted to make in his will? She might have done this instead of baulking at the idea that she had authority to tear up the legal document. Featherstone wanted not to divulge the fact of the two wills.

But would it have been moral of Mary to have helped a dying man to destroy a will so that the remaining one favoured the man she was hoping to marry? It may also have been illegal to do so, since she stood to gain herself if she married Fred. I don't think his lawyer (Mr Standish) could have got to him in time - I got the impression that he didn't live locally as he came to Stone Court especially to read the will. No telephones - he would have to be 'sent for'.

Perhaps Everyman could advise on the legal technicalities?

MadgeUK wrote: "But would it have been moral of Mary to have helped a dying man to destroy a will so that the remaining one favoured the man she was hoping to marry? It may also have been illegal to do so, since ..."

If I read the section correctly, she didn't know the difference between the wills or that one would favor Fred. But that's from memory; I didn't go back to check.

My suspicion is that somebody of her class in the 1830s viewed the law as mysterious, dangerous, something to stay away from and avoid (the sort of law that Dickens presented in Bleak House and elsewhere). The law at the time was NOT the friend of poor people (even less than it is today).

She knew that wills are legal documents, but had no idea whether she would be getting into legal trouble by messing with them, and didn't want anything to do with anything involving the law. That's my sense of what was going on, but it's just my opinion.

Thanks Everyman - that was probably the case. I feel much the same way myself!:O

Roger wrote: "Why does Mary refuse to help Featherstone replace his will anyway? I don't get that. She has some high-minded moral scruple, but I don't see what's so high-minded about refusing to help a dying m..."
Only the most recent will is valid legally. If Mary destroyed the earlier will, she'd just be helping out an old man. If she destroys the more recent one, she'd be breaking the law. Since only the most recent will is valid, one must assume (it's not actually mentioned) that Featherstone wants Mary to destroy this one, not the earlier one. She would thus be breaking the law, not just her own moral code.
Since a will is only legal if it's been witnessed, presumably at least two people would have known there was another will and might have come forward.
I'm totally with Mary on this one.
Plus, Mary had no idea what was in either will, so her so-called dilemma has nothing to do with her feelings for Fred or what he might or might not inherit. Her thoughts are about her getting in trouble if she's caught -- and rightly so, I'm not an expert but with the English class system, my guess is she would not stand a chance if challenged in court by her "betters" ie. rich Featherstone's family.

"...she would not stand a chance if challenged in court by her 'betters,' i.e., rich Featherstone's family."

I agree. I assumed she steered clear of the wills figuring that Featherstone's greedy relatives would tear her apart (legally or otherwise) if they found out she had so much as looked at his will, whether Featherstone asked her to or not. As it is, they were already very suspicious of her.

On the other hand, maybe Featherstone's last-minute change of heart was because of Mary? He obviously thought little of his relatives, and was ambivalent enough about Fred to change his will, but Featherstone must have had some inkling that Mary's future was tied up with Fred's. I don't know that he was in love with her, as someone suggested earlier, but maybe he saw her as a sort of surrogate daughter, considering that he didn't think much of his other young relatives. Maybe it took him until very near death to figure out that to deny Fred his inheritance also meant to deny Mary. Just speculation...

Erica wrote: ""...she would not stand a chance if challenged in court by her 'betters,' i.e., rich Featherstone's family."

I agree. I assumed she steered clear of the wills figuring that Featherstone's greedy r..."

In Ch 33, Mary says, "I must refuse to do anything that might lay me open to suspicion." So that fear does sound like her motivation. But on the other hand, by her inaction she thwarts Featherstone's dying wish. Is that the right thing to do? In the rest of the scene, I get the feeling that she's also motivated by disgust at Featherstone's obvious malice.

From the reading of the will Ch 35, it appears that the second will (the one Featherstone wanted destroyed?) revoked a number of legacies to relatives, and also one of 10,000 pounds to the Vincys, and put the money instead towards the construction of alms-houses "to please God Almighty" (surely meant sarcastically). It seems to me that the earlier will is the more decent one, so maybe it would have been better if it had stood.

But the story isn't totally clear, is it? Perhaps the will Featherstone wanted Mary to take out of the iron chest is still there undiscovered, and will appear later.

Frances wrote: "If Mary destroyed the earlier will, she'd just be helping out an old man. If she destroys the more recent one, she'd be breaking the law. "

That's an interesting point. Is it (or more important was it at the time) illegal to destroy a will at the specific request of the testator? (Actually, I hope not because I have more than once shredded a will at the request of the party I prepared it for!)

Since Featherstone clearly knows that the most effective way to void a will is to physically destroy it (if everybody knew this, a lot of mystery story plots would have had to be revised!), one could assume that the reason he didn't destroy the earlier will but kept it with the later will in his room is that he wanted the option to decide at any time which way he wanted to go with his inheritance. If he had made a clear decision to go with the later will, he would have just destroyed the earlier one when he wrote the later one.

If there had been other witnesses present, and it had been clear that Featherstone was of sound mind in wanting the earlier will destroyed, I don't think there would have been any legal impediment to following his direction to destroy the earlier will. That was his intent, and intent is central to the process of leaving an estate.

But I do agree that if she had destroyed the later will and its existence had been brought forward and discussed, there could be some unpleasant moments for her if she were accused of making up the request by Featherstone and actually destroying it in order to benefit Fred and therefore herself.

Whether or not it would have been illegal for her to destroy it, I do agree that she can't be faulted for acting imprudently in refusing to do so.

Roger wrote: "and put the money instead towards the construction of alms-houses "to please God Almighty" (surely meant sarcastically)"

Why do you assume this was sarcastic? For those living in 1830, it was not unusual for people approaching death to think more on their maker, particularly those who may realize that they have not lived the most holy lives and are weighing themselves up in the balance and worrying about how they will be judged when the time for judgment comes. In his day and age the giving of alms or endowing of good works was seen as pleasing to God and therefore a point on the positive side of the balance.

Is there a reason why you think Eliot wanted us to consider that a sarcastic comment?

Everyman wrote: "Roger wrote: "and put the money instead towards the construction of alms-houses "to please God Almighty" (surely meant sarcastically)"

Why do you assume this was sarcastic? For those living in 183..."

In Ch 33, the narrator says, "Old Featherstone himself was not in the least anxious about his soul, and had declined to see Mr Tucker on the subject." Also, his deathbed behavior gives no indication of conversion.

Roger wrote: "Everyman wrote: "Roger wrote: "and put the money instead towards the construction of alms-houses "to please God Almighty" (surely meant sarcastically)"

Why do you assume this was sarcastic? For ..."

That's a good point. I'm not sure I agree, but it's definitely a basis to think it sarcastic. Though if that's the case, why would he make that bequest in the first place? Giving away that amount of money seems out of character unless he expected to get some benefit from it.

Roger wrote: "In Ch 33, the narrator says, "Old Featherstone himself was not in the least anxious about his soul, and had declined to see Mr Tucker on the subject." Also, his deathbed behavior gives no indication of conversion. ..."

Old Featherstone attempted to rise above convention, having nothing to fear from either church or relatives, as he is about to meet his maker. Altruism would support the donation to charity and is specified in the codicil, but he doesn't want to follow through with his decision. Besides the two wills Old Featherstone makes, Dorothea and Casaubon discuss a change in Casaubon's will to share Dorothea's portion with Ladislaw, whose family Casaubon monetarily helped. Fearful that Ladislaw will unfavorably influence Dorothea about him, he tells his young cousin to cut ties in Middlemarch. Both Old Featherstone and Casaubon abandon doing right, but events might not cooperate with their intentions.

There is also the possibility that Featherstone left the money to almshouses purely to tick off his relatives, because he enjoyed imagining their reactions. Eliot says of his feelings towards money:

"...perhaps he loved it best of all as a means of making others feel his power more or less uncomfortably."

And about his plans for his funeral:

"In writing the programme for his burial, he certainly did not make clear to himself that his pleasure in the little drama of which it formed a part was confined to anticipation....In any case, he had been bent on having a handsome funeral, and on having persons 'bid' to it who would rather have stayed at home."

Featherstone enjoyed using his money to put people in awkward situations that he found amusing, and he sometimes forgot that he wouldn't be there at his funeral and will-reading to chuckle at the discomfort he was giving everyone. He probably enjoyed the mental image of everyone's face on finding out that they wouldn't be inheriting anything after all. That said, I do think he always intended the first will (the one giving Fred money) to be his real will, as is shown by his actions right before his death. But I think he liked the idea that he had the power to disinherit them all, if he wanted to.

Yes, one of the major themes in Middlemarch is altruism and those who do good eventually profit in some way from their actions, Dorothea in particular, in her role as a surrogate St Theresa. Featherstone characterises the opposite of altruism - egoism - and, as Audrey writes, enjoyed power over people and the discomfiture he could cause by witholding the benefits of his wealth, his philanthropy, from others, even after death. It is a religious as well as a philosophical theme (cf The Golden Rule) and one popular with the Victorians, whose commitment to philanthropy was legend. Featherstone was definitely not altruistic!

Potted history: The word altruism was coined by the sociologist Auguste Comte as the central idea in his atheistic Religion of Humanity (from where we also get the word 'humanitarian'). George Eliot's partner, Lewes, was the first to use the term in 1852 in relation to one of her poems and he and Eliot, with others, began to spread the gospel of humanity and the social principle of living for others - being altruistic.

Darwin had seen sympathy and love, not only selfishness and competition, throughout the natural world and Herbert Spencer, on the back of this, founded the Anti-Aggression League which had some influence upon early socialism and pacifism. Prior to Darwin and Comte writers such as Hobbes had expressed their view that all human action was driven by self interest, and animal nature had been seen as 'red in tooth and claw'*. Lewes, like Comte, argued that 'Moral life is based on sympathy. It is feeling for others' and that ethics was physiologically grounded. Eliot repeatedly takes up this theme in her novels and in Middlemarch we see numerous occasions of Dorothea and others profiting from behaving altruistically whilst others, like Featherstone, Casaubon and Bulstrode, behave selfishly and get their 'comeuppance'.

*'Who trusted God was love indeed
And love Creation's final flaw
Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw
With ravine, shriek'd against his creed'

(Tennyson In Memoriam 1850.)

MadgeUK wrote: "Yes, one of the major themes in Middlemarch is altruism and those who do good eventually profit in some way from their actions, Dorothea in particular, in her role as a surrogate St Theresa. Feath..."

Madge, you are a gem. Were you a teacher somewhere, or just a very well educated and well read woman? Not that the two are mutually exclusive, of course, but somehow one expects teachers who are professional learners to know a bit more than we ordinary blokes.

MadgeUK wrote: "...Lewes, like Comte, argued that 'Moral life is based on sympathy. It is feeling for others' ..."

Featherstone's putting the almshouse in his will reminds me about truth. His donation to charity is a good in itself, being helpful to the community, even though he might not feel sympathetic or might be acting from self-interest. In a similar way a person may say something that turns out to be true through guessing or routine expectation even though s/he can't be said to know the truth in that instance. Featherstone could do right without his knowing it.

Oh my, thanks a lot Everyman!:O You are a bit of a gem yourself! No, I have never been a teacher of any kind but I am pretty well read and I like to read 'around' any book before, during and after reading it (Tomalin & Uglow in this case). And if I get interested in a topic or theme, I search around the internet, which is a boon for old biddies like me with lots of time on their hands! I had an ordinary British grammar school education although that was 50 odd years ago but I studied social history and comparative religion a little whilst at university. The great Victorian novels encompass those subjects, which have been a lifetime interest.

However, I don't have anything like the depth of literary knowledge which yourself and Laurel frequently display here, especially in the older classics.

More background info: In Chap 38 Mr Cadwaller remarks 'I saw Farebrother yesterday-he's Whiggish himself, hoists Brougham and Useful Knowledge; that's the worst I know of him...' I think that 'hoists' in this instance means that Farebrother either sells or promotes the publications of the Society for Useful Knowledge. This is a reference to Henry Brougham (pronounced Broom!) and the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, which he founded in the 1820s, a typical 'worthy' Victorian society devoted to taking education to the working classes, although it was not very successful and its libraries and publications were bought more by the middle classes. The Society published, amongst other things, the Penny Magazine:-

http://www.history.rochester.edu/penn...

Perhaps the most lasting of the SDUK publications was their series of maps of the major cities of the world, which were the forerunners of today's travel guides:-

http://www.philaprintshop.com/sdukcty...

Mr Cadwaller's comment 'that's the worst I know of him' reflects the upper middle class disdain of the Whigs (Liberals) promotion of self-help organisations designed to improve the lot of working people.

George Eliot would also have been familiar with Samuel Smiles Self Help published in 1845, which had the same aims as the SDUK, as Smiles' speech to the Mutual Improvement Society illustrates:-

'I would not have any one here think that, because I have mentioned individuals who have raised themselves by self-education from poverty to social eminence, and even wealth, these are the chief marks to be aimed at. That would be a great fallacy. Knowledge is of itself one of the highest enjoyments. The ignorant man passes through the world dead to all pleasures, save those of the senses...Every human being has a great mission to perform, noble faculties to cultivate, a vast destiny to accomplish. He should have the means of education, and of exerting freely all the powers of his godlike nature.'

I seem to hear the voice of Dorothea in the above paragraph!

Capability to learn belongs naturally to all living beings and learning is an intrinsic right that societies ought to recognize. The SCUK and the Mutual Improvement Society fostered that idea through their publications.

A while ago, we were discussing how MM and other books of the time were written as serials. I asked about whether they were fully written and the released in sections. Thought people might enjoy this from a blog I read:

In the course of describing Dickens's self-confidence as a performer in his Charles Dickens as a Reader (1872), Charles Kent passes along the following anecdote:
[T:]he present writer recalls to recollection very clearly the fact of Dickens saying to him one day,--saying it with the most whimsical air by-the-bye, but very earnestly,--"Once, and but once only in my life, I was--frightened!" The occasion he referred to was simply this, as he immediately went on to explain, that somewhere about the middle of the serial publication of David Copperfield, happening to be out of writing-paper, he sallied forth one morning to get a fresh supply at the stationer's. He was living then in his favourite haunt, at Fort House, in Broadstairs. As he was about to enter the stationer's shop, with the intention of buying the needful writing-paper, for the purpose of returning home with it, and at once setting to work upon his next number, not one word of which was yet written, he stood aside for a moment at the threshold to allow a lady to pass in before him. He then went on to relate--with a vivid sense still upon him of mingled enjoyment and dismay in the mere recollection--how the next instant he had overheard this strange lady asking the person behind the counter for the new green number. When it was handed to her, "Oh, this," said she, "I have read. I want the next one." The next one she was thereupon told would be out by the end of the month. "Listening to this, unrecognised," he added, in conclusion, knowing the purpose for which I was there, and remembering that no one word of the number she was asking for was yet written, for the first and only time in my life, I felt--frightened!"

Nice anecdote, Zeke. I think that would frighten me, too.

Zeke wrote: "A while ago, we were discussing how MM and other books of the time were written as serials. I asked about whether they were fully written and the released in sections. Thought people might enjoy th..."

This anecdote also explains why some people think Dickens could have used some skillful editing. There usually wasn't time for much rewriting or editing -- he was notorious for writing up to almost the last minute that an episode had to go to the printer.

Great anecdote Zeke - thanks!

Everyman wrote: "Zeke wrote: "A while ago, we were discussing how MM and other books of the time were written as serials. I asked about whether they were fully written and the released in sections. Thought people m..."

Interesting anecdote, Zeke. I don't know much about his writing method, but I'm guessing that he often made things up as the serialization progresses.

I also think that his novels --- at least those that I've read --- contain quite a bit of filler material that could be edited out without detriment to the main narrative. Does anyone feel the same about Middlemarch or any other novel by Eliot?

MadgeUK wrote: "Oh my, thanks a lot Everyman!:O You are a bit of a gem yourself! No, I have never been a teacher of any kind but I am pretty well read and I like to read 'around' any book before, during and after..."

I agree. I really appreciate having Madge around to dole out morsels of fascinating tidbits about our reading! Keep 'em coming, Madge! :)

Thanks Sandybanks, I'll try:):).

I can't help but think that Featherstone might have destroyed the later will earlier and on his own if he hadn't have learned of Fred's debt and inheritance expectations. It probably took him until his last night to fully forgive Fred.

Caeliban wrote: "I can't help but think that Featherstone might have destroyed the later will earlier and on his own if he hadn't have learned of Fred's debt and inheritance expectations. It probably took him until..."

The imminence of death does seem, at least in literature, to focus the mind.

The deaths of Featherstone and Casaubon make me think about the difference between death then and now, at least of deaths by disease or natural cause, not sudden accident. Today we are so often unwilling to let people die naturally; the end days and hours are spent deep in the bowels of an impersonal hospital, attached to tubes and machines, with limited visiting hours and limited people allowed to visit. And little time to contemplate the process of leaving life, of saying goodbye to our home and surroundings and people we love (or, in Featherstone's case, don't love in the least!) But the person dying today in a hospital or nursing home wouldn't have the option to direct someone to go get a will out of the box and destroy it.

There is gradually becoming a movement to resist the modern way of death and return to the acceptance of the natural end of life, either at home or in a hospice. I hope I'll have the ability to choose one of these options when eventually my time comes. Though I'm hoping and expecting it to be a great many years away -- I have to become a great-grandfather first, and my oldest grandchild is only 2, so it'll be awhile!

Very appropriate for me right now, as I am working through such issues with my Aged P's.

Everyman wrote: The imminence of death does seem, at least in literature, to focus the mind.

The deaths of Featherstone and Casaubon make me think about the difference between death then and now, at least of deaths by disease or natural cause, not sudden accident. Today we are so often unwilling to let people die naturally; the end days and hours are spent deep in the bowels of an impersonal hospital, attached to tubes and machines, with limited visiting hours and limited people allowed to visit. And little time to contemplate the process of leaving life, of saying goodbye to our home and surroundings and people we love (or, in Featherstone's case, don't love in the least!) But the person dying today in a hospital or nursing home wouldn't have the option to direct someone to go get a will out of the box and destroy it.

There is gradually becoming a movement to resist the modern way of death and return to the acceptance of the natural end of life, either at home or in a hospice. I hope I'll have the ability to choose one of these options when eventually my time comes. Though I'm hoping and expecting it to be a great many years away -- I have to become a great-grandfather first, and my oldest grandchild is only 2, so it'll be awhile!