d a gentleman
say, who was in the ship with him about six years ago, that as they were
sailing over against the town, of Hastings, in Sussex, Sir Cloudesley
called out, 'Pilot, put near; I have a little business on shore.' So he
put near, and Sir Cloudesley and this gentleman went to shore in a small
boat, and having walked about half a mile, Sir Cloudesley came to a
little house [in All Saints Street], 'Come,' says he, 'my business is
here; I came on purpose to see the good woman of this house.' Upon this
they knocked at the door, and out came a poor old woman, upon which Sir
Cloudesley kissed her, and then falling down on his knees, begged her
blessing, and calling her mother (who had removed out of Yorkshire
hither). He was mightily kind to her, and she to him, and after that he
had made his visit, he left her ten guineas, and took his leave with
tears in his eyes and departed to his ship."

[Sidenote: THE CHURCH MILITANT]

Hastings had a famous rector at the beginning of the last century, in
the person of the Rev. Webster Whistler, who combined with the eastern
benefice that of Newtimber, near Hurstpierpoint, and managed to serve
both to a great age. He lived to be eighty-four and died full of vigour
in 1831. In 1817, following upon a quarrel with the squire, the
Newtimber living was put up for auction in London. Mr. Whistler decided
to be present, but anonymous. The auctioneer mentioned in his
introduction the various charms of the benefice, ending with the
superlative advantage that it was held by an aged and infirm clergyman
with one foot in the grave. At this point the proceedings were
interrupted by a large and powerful figure in clerical costume springing
on the table and crying out to the company: "Now, gentlemen, do I look
like a man tottering on the brink of the grave? My left leg gives me no
sign of weakness, and as for the other, Mr. Auctioneer, if you repeat
your remarks you will find it very much at your service." The living
found no purchaser.

Mr. Whistler had a Chinese indifference to the necessary end of all
things, which prompted him to use an aged yew tree in his garden, that
had long given him shade but must now be felled, as material for his
coffin. This coffin he placed at the foot of his bed as a chest for
clothes until its proper purpose was fulfilled.

Hastings was also the home of Edward Capel, a Shakespeare-editor of the
eighteenth century. Capel, who is said to have copied out in his