The doctor always rode excellent horses, and having mounted one of his very best, and the road lying over the Downs, we arrived at my father's house twenty minutes before eight o'clock. I had already ridden a distance of twenty-six miles. Mr. Clare having examined my father's leg, pronounced the case to be a serious one, and at once recommended that Mr. Grant, an eminent surgeon of Bath, should be called in, as well as Dr. Hill a physician, (for form's sake) from Devizes. He said to my father, whom he knew to be a man of an uncommonly firm mind, "I know you will not be alarmed, Sir, but we must have good advice and assistance, or your leg is in such a state that I fear amputation may be necessary. I have therefore desired your son to send or go for Mr. Grant, of Bath, to assist me, who is one of the most eminent men in the profession." My father firmly replied, "if you think, Sir, that it is absolutely necessary, never wait for Mr. Grant, but take off my leg at once."--"No, Sir," replied Clare, "I shall not advise that at present. I will do all that is necessary for you now; but let your son depart for Mr. Grant immediately. I know your son's expedition, and I know that he will be more likely to prevail upon Mr. Grant to come than any one we can send. In the mean time I will bring over Dr. Hill from Devizes, and see you in the afternoon." This was so settled, and without delay I had changed my horse and galloped back to Devizes; with Mr. Clare, in my way to Bath. As we passed along he informed me, seriously, that my father was not merely in a dangerous state, but that he had not even the slightest hopes of his recovery. I was thunder-struck; I had hardly ever thought of such a thing. My father, at the age of 63, was one of the most healthy, vigorous, active men in the kingdom, and had scarcely ever had a day's serious illness in his life. To see him walk, ride, mount his horse, or in fact do any thing; he was so active, so alert, that his motions were more like a youth of eighteen or twenty than those of an old man; and to look upon him, no one would guess his age to be much above forty, though his hair lead been as white as the driven snow for years. The truth was, that he had all his life been an active, temperate, prudent man, and at the age of sixty his constitution had never received a single shock. I have often heard him say, that he had never been ill since he had the small pox, which he caught in the natural way, when a boy at the age of eight years. In the drawing-room, he frequently shamed myself, as well as all the young men of the village; for he was the most polite and attentive man I ever saw. If a lady dropped her fan, her shawl, her handkerchief, nay even a pin, he was the first to spring to her aid and pick it up; and this he would do in less time than one of our modern yawning, lounging, dandies would take to drawl out "pray Maam shall I have the honour, &c." He would take a cheerful bottle, and