Sn Bemoriam. 
JOHN WILLIAM CHALONER. 
WITH sincere grief we record the death of a mutual friend, ally, 
and valued coadjutor in Natural History—the Rev. John William 
Chaloner, M.A., rector of Newton Kyme, Yorkshire. 
He was born there September rst, 1811, his father being rector 
till his death in 1830. The Chaloner family were connected with 
the Guisborough family of that name, and with the Fairfaxes of 
Newton Kyme. The subject of this sketch succeeded to the living 
in 1851, and died at the beloved old Rectory, February r2th, 1894, 
in the 83rd year of his age, having been rector above forty years. 
He was confined to his room only about a fortnight previous to his 
death, and although twice married, he died a widower. 
Mr. Chaloner was educated first at Rugby, where he was 
a favourite pupil of Dr. Arnold’s. Afterwards, he proceeded to 
Magdalen College, Cambridge, and graduated in 1836. After 
ordination, he held the curacies of Stoke and of Bilborough, the 
burial-place of the great Lord Fairfax. Whilst at the latter place he 
lived at Boston Spa, and eventually gave up his curacy for Newton 
Kyme. 
His churchmanship was of the good, old-fashioned type. He 
was intensely upright, sincere, and practical, without pretension. 
His religion was the outcome of an old text: ‘Keep innocency, 
and do the thing which is right, for that shall bring a man peace at 
the last.’ He was liberal and loving to all who wished to de and to 
do good, whatever they called themselves. His church being devoid 
of a vestry, it was his habit after prayers every Sunday to remove 
his surplice, and hang it on a peg, and robe himself in the black 
preaching-gown, in sight of the little flock assembled, then stepping 
into the pulpit, he gave them a good practical sermon (and I have 
heard many of them). He was a magnificent reader. 
A capital story of his moderation, helpfulness, and catholicity is 
told of him, when he lived in the house where this sketch is written. 
He would drive off on Sundays to Bilborough, and overtaking on 
the road a poor Wesleyan local preacher, a Bostonian tailor, trudging 
along, the curate would pull up, and give him a lift, and parson and 
preacher trotted off, one to be deposited at his chapel door, and the 
other at his church, a few miles further on. 
The old rector was well read in natural history, and kept well 
abreast with the times. The study of out-door life had great charms 
for him during his long life—a life full of activities of all sorts 
Although he had no ambition to be a writer or chronicler (if he had 
