Sedgwick. 47 
land. It was hot summer-time, and after sketching the High 
Foree, in Teesdale, I was reclining in the shade, reading some 
easily-carried book. Came riding up, from Middleton, a dark- 
visaged, conspicuous man, with a miner’s boy behind. Oppo- 
site me he stopped, and courteously asked if I had looked at 
the eelobrated waterfall which was near; adding that though 
ie had previously visited Teesdale, he had not found an occa- 
sion for viewing it; that he would like to stop then and there 
to do so, but for the boy behind him, “who had him in tow to 
take him to Cronkley Scar,” a high dark hill right ahead, 
where, he said, “ the limestone was turned into lump-sugar.” 
A few days afterward, on his way to the lakes, he rested for 
a few hours at Kirkby Lonsdale to converse with Smith, who 
was engaged on his geological map of the district, and had just 
Scovered some interesting fossils in the laminated strata 
below Old Red sandstone, on Kirkby Moor, perhaps the earli- 
est observation of shells in what were afterward called the 
Eight years after this Adam Sedgwick was President of the 
Geological Society, and in that capacity presented to William 
Smith the first Wollaston medal. The writer may be permitted 
¢ pleasure of this reminiscence, since from the day when he 
learned the name of the horseman in Teesdale, till within a few 
days of his death, he had the happiness of enjoying his intimate 
friendship, 
Sedgwick had acquired fame before Murchison began his 
great career. After sharing in Peninsular wars, and chasing 
the fox in Yorkshire, the “old soldier’ beame a young geolo- 
