284 In Memoriam— -John Cordeaux. 
with the remains of man, ox, deer, and smaller feral units of 
geological or prehistoric time, found a diligent student and 
‘hue thoughtful SE ponent in the ise tone oer master of Great:Cotes 
House. He showed me the maps, drawings, and notes from 
“ fete by which he had Seunanuib that the lost villages 
th mber shore of the East Riding were long ago buried 
Resa ro waters of the North Sea; Spurn Head being slowly 
but surely pushed westward into the embouchure of the river, 
as the Boulder Clay of the east coast of Yorkshire gives way 
before the action we frost and waves, and is dispersed over the 
sea floor. His arguments as he explained everything were so 
concise, clear, cae suitable that it seemed as if one were listen- 
ing to a learned professor of geology demonstrating the action 
of tidal currents and oceanic scour. Truly did a recent writer 
in ‘The Field’ say of him, ‘Few country gentlemen have done 
more than he has done to foster a love of natural history in the 
county in which he resided, and to add to the common store of 
knowledge by the patient collection of observed facts and the 
subsequent publication of t 
The moral and <aeanacrsal seacaphers of that home, where — 
all true workers were made hospitably welcome, and the only 
self-seeking was a desire for further and fuller knowledge, made 
it a rallying place for many a jaded worker, and a starting 
place for fresh efforts and exertions. ‘In this age in which 
men value one another for what they have rather than for what 
they. are, John Cordeaux stood forth as a sturdy and noble 
protest. 
The characteristic words spoken within two months of his 
own departure of his friend the late Mr. Hewetson, ‘I tell you 
what it is, I shall soon have to follow him; I miss his friend- 
ship and his letters so. When my time comes I should like to ‘ 
be buried on the top of the wolds, where the cry of the Pink- 
footed Goose can be heard as it flies over in spring or returns in 
autumn ;’ or his last message to the members of the Lincoln- 
_ shire Naturalists’ Union, concerning their meeting at Frieston — 
Shore, dictated from his deathbed, ‘I cannot possibly come, but 
I shall be with them in apne if not in person,’ show the true 
man in all he was, The ‘Humber ornithologist’ was a man, — 
but the least part of the man was given to the world by his pen — 
his personality outshone his works. He lies at rest in Louth 
Cemetery, ‘on the top of the wolds,’ and no more fitting motto — 
could be found for his tomb than—_ 
He prayeth best who loveth best oe 
All things; both great and small. cas ale 
Ez * . Wooprurrs-PEacock. 
paaocenies 
