throng the halls of fashionable town
residences, they equally reflect the character of the establishments
to which they belong; and I know no more complete epitomes of
dissolute heartlessness and pampered inutility.

But, the good "old family servant!"--the one who has always been
linked, in idea, with the home of our heart; who has led us to school
in the days of prattling childhood; who has been the confidant of our
boyish cares, and schemes, and enterprises; who has hailed us as we
came home at vacations, and been the promoter of all our holiday
sports; who, when we, in wandering manhood, have left the paternal
roof, and only return thither at intervals--will welcome us with a,
joy inferior only to that of our parents; who, now grown gray and
infirm with age, still totters about the house of our fathers, in fond
and faithful servitude; who claims us, in a manner, as his own; and
hastens with querulous eagerness to anticipate his fellow-domestics in
waiting upon us at table; and who, when we retire at night to the
chamber that still goes by our name, will linger about the room to
have one more kind look, and one more pleasant word about times that
are past--who does not experience towards such a being a feeling of
almost filial affection?

I have met with several instances of epitaphs on the gravestones of
such valuable domestics, recorded with the simple truth of natural
feeling. I have two before me at this moment; one copied from a
tombstone of a church-yard in Warwickshire:

"Here lieth the body of Joseph Batte, confidential servant to George
Birch, Esq., of Hamstead Hall. His grateful friend and master caused
this inscription to be written in memory of his discretion, fidelity,
diligence, and continence. He died (a bachelor) aged 84, having lived
44 years in the same family."

The other was taken from a tombstone in Eltham churchyard:

"Here lie the remains of Mr. James Tappy, who departed this life on
the 8th of September, 1818, aged 84, after a faithful service of 60
years in one family; by each individual of which he lived respected,
and died lamented by the sole survivor."

Few monuments, even of the illustrious, have given me the glow about
the heart that I felt while copying this honest epitaph in the
church-yard of Eltham. I sympathized with this "sole survivor" of a
family mourning over the grave of the faithful follower of his race,
who had been, no doubt, a living memento of times and friends th