and in such a manner as should be thought fit, affirming that he had much to say to him, and of such a nature as would require much privacy, and some time and patience in the hearing.

"Sir Ralph promised that he would speak first with the Duke of him, and then he should understand his pleasure; and, accordingly, the first opportunity he did inform him of the reputation and honesty of the man, and then what he desired, and all he knew of the matter.

"The Duke, according to his usual openness and condescension, told him, that he was the next day early to hunt with the king; that his horses should attend him at Lambeth Bridge, where he should land by five of the clock in the morning; and if the man attended him there at that hour, he would walk and speak with him as long as should be necessary.

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Sir Ralph carried the man with him the next morning, and presented him to the Duke at his landing, who received him courteously, and walked aside in conference near an hour; none but his own servants being at that hour in that place; and they and Sir Ralph au such a distance, that they could not hear a word, though the Duke sometimes spoke loud, and with great commotion, which Sir Ralph the more easily observed and perceived, because he kept his eyes always fixed upon the Duke, having procured the conference upon somewhat he knew there was of extraordinary.

"The man told him, in his return over the water, that when he mentioned those particulars which were to gain him credit, (the substance whereof, he said, he durst not impart unto him,) the Duke's colour changed, and he swore he could come at that knowledge only by the devil, for that those particulars were only known to

himself and to one person more, who he was sure would never speak of it.

"The Duke pursued his purpose of hunting, but was observed to ride all the morning with great pensiveness and in deep thoughts, without any delight in the exercise he was upon; and before the morning was spent, left the field, and alighted at his mother's lodgings in Whitehall, with whom he was shut up for the space of two or three hours; the noise of their discourse frequently reaching the ears of those who attended in the next room. And when the Duke left her, his countenance appeared full of trouble, with a mixture of anger; a countenance that was never before observed in him in any conversation with her, towards whom he had profound reverence; and the Countess herself (for though she was married to a private gentleman, Sir Thomas Compton, she had been created Countess of Buckingham shortly after her son had first assumed that title) was, at the Duke's leaving her, found overwhelmed in tears, and in the highest agony imaginable.

"Whatever there was of all this, it is notorious truth, that when the news of the Duke's murder (which happened within a few months after) was brought to his mother, she seemed not in the least degree surprised, but received it as if she had foreseen it; nor did afterwards express such a degree of sorrow as was expected from such a mother for the loss of such a son."

LA BELLE JENYNS AND SOAME JENYNS.

THE family of Jenyns, lately represented by the Rev. George Leonard Jenyns, of Bottisham Hall, Cambridgeshire, has been rich in distinguished names: Sir John Jenyns, made a Knight of the Bath at the creation of Charles, Prince of Wales, served as High Sheriff of Herts' in 1626, and sat in Parliament for St. Alban's. Of his grand-daughters, Sarah became the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough, and her sister Frances," La Belle Jenyns," Duchess of Tyrconnel. Of the latter, we have the following account: "The fair, the elegant, the fascinating Frances Jenyns moved through the glittering court in unblenched majesty, robbed the men of their hearts, the women of their lovers, and never lost herself. As to hearts and such things, to bring them to Charles's court was mere work of supererogation; it was like trading to the South Sea Islands with diamonds and ingots of gold, where glass beads and tinfoil bear just the same value, and answered just as well. Her form was that of a young Aurora, newly descended to the earth; she never moved without discovering some new charm, or developing some new grace. To her external attractions, Miss Jenyns added what was rarely met with in the court of Charles—all the witchery of mind, and all the dignity of virtue."

After the death of Tyrconnel, the Duchess was permitted to erect a house (still standing) in King-street, Dublin, as a nunnery for poor Clares; and in this obscure retirement, burying all the attractions and graces which once so adorned the court of England, she died at the age of ninety-two, and was interred in St. Patrick's Cathedral, 9th of March, 1790. The granduncle of this incomparable beauty, Thomas Jenyns, Esq., of Hayes, was great-grandfather of the celebrated wit, SOAME JENYNS, whose character and habits are thus described :

"He came into your house at the very moment you had put upon your card; he dressed himself, to do your party honour, in all the colours of the jay; his lace, indeed, had long since lost its lustre, but his coat had faithfully retained its cut since the days when gentlemen wore embroidered figured velvets, with short sleeves, boot cuffs, and buckram skirts. As nature cast him in the exact mould of an ill-made pair of stiff stays, he followed her so close in the fashion of his coat, that it was doubted if he did not wear them: because he had a protuberant wen just under his pole, he wore a wig that did not cover above half his head. His eyes were protruded like the eyes of the lobster, who wears them at the end of his feelers, and yet there was room between one of them and his nose for another wen, that added nothing to his beauty: yet this good man was heard very innocently to remark, when Gibbon published his history, that he wondered any body so ugly could write a book.'

Such was the exterior of a man who was the charm of the circle, and gave a zest to every company he came into. His pleasantry was of a sort peculiar to himself! it harmonized with everything: it was like the bread

to your dinner; you did not perhaps make it the whole or principal part of the meal, but it was an admirable and wholesome auxiliary to the other viands. Soame Jenyns told you no long stories, engrossed not much of your attention, and was not angry with those that did. His thoughts were original, and were apt to have a very whimsical affinity to the paradox in them. He wrote verses upon dancing, and prose upon the origin of evil; yet he was a very indifferent metaphysician, and a worse dancer.

ANCIENT FAMILIES.

CURIOSITY, says Saussure, led me to pay a visit to the blacksmith Macnab, to see the manuscript, of the Poems of Ossian, which, according to report, were long possessed by his family. I saw the old man, but not the manuscripts; they had long ago been sent to Edinburgh, for the use of the members of the Highland Society. He showed me the ancient armour of his ancestors, for he gloried in a long succession of them, all blacksmiths like himself. This family inhabited the same house upwards of four hundred years. In the ages of feudalism they handled successively the hammer and the sword. One of the ancestors of Macnab had been employed in building the Castle of Kilchurn, and many of them, no doubt, contributed to defend it against the attacks of the enemy's clans. What appalling vicissitudes in human affairs! The castle of that powerful lord, of that once formidable chief, is now deserted and