Naboth, you see, stands simply on his right to his own property.
'The Lord forbid it me, that I should give the inheritance of my
fathers unto thee.' I do not think that he meant that God had
actually forbidden him: it seems to have been only some sort of
oath which he used. He may certainly have had reasons for thinking
it wrong to part with his lands; hurtful, perhaps, to his family
after him. Yet, as Ahab had promised him a better vineyard for it,
or its worth in money, I cannot help thinking that Naboth's reason
was the one which shows on the face of his words. It was the
inheritance of his fathers, this vineyard. They had all worked in
it, generation after generation; perhaps, according to the Jewish
custom, they were buried somewhere in it; at least, it had been
theirs and now was his; he had worked in it, and played in it--
perhaps since he was a child--and he loved it; it was part and
parcel of his father's house to him, a sacred spot.

And so it should be. It is a holy feeling which makes a man cling
to the bit of land which he has inherited from his parents, even to
the cottage, though it be only a hired one, where he has lived for
many a year, and where he has planted and tilled, perhaps with some
that he loved, who are now dead and gone, or grown up and gone out
into the world, till the little old cottage-garden is full of
remembrances to him of past joys and past sorrows. The feeling
which makes a man cling to his home and to his own land is a good
feeling, and breeds good in the man. It makes him respect himself;
it keeps him from being reckless and unsettled. It is a feeling
which should not be broken through. It is seldom pleasant to see
land change hands; it is seldom pleasant to see people turned out of
their cottages. It must often be so, but let it be as seldom as
possible. One likes to see a family take root in a place, and grow