252 MEMOIR OF 



dearly loved fox-hunting, and possessing a 

 clever "whit-faced horse," which carried him 

 brilliantly over Roughtor and Brownwilly, he 

 valued him more than gold. Being attacked 

 by serious illness, which brought him face to 

 face with an enemy he could no longer escape, 

 and having lived a free-and-easy kind of life, 

 with more thought for the present than for a 

 future world, the clergyman of his parish deemed 

 it his duty to visit him, and impress him with 

 a serious view of his coming end. 



" You are going on a long journey, sir," said 

 the good parson, " and surely you should make 

 some preparation for it, before it be too late." 



" I've no wish to travel," replied the sick 

 man ; " this place suits me well enough." 



" But, sir, 'tis to a better country I would 

 direct your thoughts, where " 



"A better country, did you say?" interrupted 

 the other, impatiently. "Give me only a thousand 

 a year and my old w^iit-faced horse, and I'd 

 never wish to see a better country than our 

 Cornish moors." 



Finding him impracticable, the parson took 

 his leave, with manifest but unavailing " signs 

 of sorrow." 



In a very short time afterwards, being 

 dressed in his top boots and scarlet hunting- 

 coat, he was carried down to a settle near the 

 kitchen fire, where, as volumes of smoke curled 



