The second of these sons, Altham, was created an Iris peer in 1680, by the title of Baron Altham, with limit tion to his younger brothers: he died, in 1699, leaving an infant son, the second Lord Altham, who did L long survive him, and consequently his honours were inherited by his third brother,

Richard Annesley, Dean of Exeter, who thus becam third Lord Altham. This nobleman, dying in 1701, ki two sons, Arthur and Richard.

The elder, his successor,

Arthur, fourth Lord Altham, and to him we call ti reader's particular attention, married Mary, illegitimate daughter of John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, a i was supposed to have died issueless, in 1727. Of this fourth Lord Altham, however, and his wife Mary, JAMES ANNESLEY, the hero of this romantic story, proved himself, as will be hereafter seen, to be the son. Yet at the time of the fourth lord's death, the knowledge of this fact was a secret, and consequently he was succeeded by his brother,

RICHARD ANNESLEY, fifth Lord Altham. This nobeman became also sixth Earl of Anglesey on the demise. without issue, of his three cousins, the sons, and successors of his uncle, James the second Earl. Richard, sixth Earl of Anglesey, had scarcely assumed all these dignities, when a claimant to the honours arose in the person of James Annesley, who asserted himself to l the son of Arthur, fourth Lord Altham, by Mary, his wife, and a publication appeared entitled "The Adven tures of an Unfortunate Young Nobleman." This sets forth his case in so curious and interesting a way, bet g as was afterwards proved, true in the main, that we cannot do better than give from it the following extrací, for the length of which we do not apologise, as the tale it unfolds may well stand in rivalry with many

a marvellous legend, the mere offspring of a fertile imagination :

James Annesley, whose life, it seems, was an obstruction to the grant of some leases, which the extravagance of the Baron, his father, made necessary, was therefore removed from a public to a very obscure school, and letters were written to corroborate a report of his death, and of that of the Baroness, who had been forced to retire for subsistence to the duke her father in another kingdom. After which the baron her husband married a woman who happened, amidst the variety he had tried, to please and fix him.

On his father's ceasing to pay for his board at school, this young nobleman began to feel his misfortunes. His clothes grew ragged and too little for him, his fare coarse and scanty, no recreation allowed, never looked upon but with frowns, nor spoke to but with reproaches, continually reprimanded, often cruelly beaten, sometimes barely for not doing what none took the pains to instruct him in. While others of his age were at their school exercises, he was employed either in drawing water, cleaning knives, or some servile office. Thus he continued for more than two years, when growing more sensible of his ill usage, he began to murmur, but was told that he was kept only on charity, and if he liked not that way of life, he might seek a better: the poor innocent, thinking he could not fare worse, without clothes, money, or the least hint given him where to find his father, turned his back upon that scene of woe, and travelled without knowing where to go till he came to a small village. His tender limbs being much fatigued, for he was but turned of ten years old, he sat down at a door and wept bitterly for want of food; a good old woman relieved him with some bread, meat, and buttermilk, which enabled him to pursue his journey, till he

arrived at the capital. Here, friendless and hungry, La fell again into tears, which not availing him, he was obliged to beg, and by his modest deportment obtained some relief, and at night took up his lodging in a church-porch. Next morning, recollecting that his school-master talked of writing to his father in this city, he went from one street to another, inquiring for the baron. At length, he was informed that his lordship hid retired from town some time-none knew whither-n account of his debts. Our noble wanderer, now withi hope, and hunger pressing, and some churlish peopà threatening him with the house of correction for asking relief, he took to running of errands, and procured a mean subsistence, after the manner of other poor lys It happened one day, some boys fell upon him and lea him severely, calling him dog and scoundrel, words he could less bear than the blows; he answered, “Ti-s lied, he was better than the best of them; his father was a lord, and he should be a lord when a man.” After this he was, in derision, called "my lord," wh; £ the mistress of the house hearing, called him, and sexing he had no deformity to deserve the title, as vulgariy given, "Tell me," says she, "why they call you lord.” “Madam,” replied he, "I shall be a lord when my father dies." "Ah!" said she, "who is your father*** "The Baron of A, and my mother is the Baroress of A, but she has left the kingdom, and they shall never see her again." "Who tells you all this”” "I know it very well; I lived in a great house once, a d had a footman, and then was carried to a great sch 1 and was reckoned the head boy there, and had the firest clothes: afterwards, I was carried to another school, and there they abused me sadly, because they sl, 1. v father would not pay for me." "Why do you not gobi your father?” “I don't know where to find him,"

"Do

swered the poor innocent, and burst into tears. you think you should know him?" "Yes, very well, though it is a great while since I saw him, but I remember he used to come in a coach and six to see me, when I lived at the great school." Moved at this account, but willing to examine him more strictly, she said, "You are a lying boy, for that lord's son is dead." He replied, "Indeed I tell the truth; I never was sick, but once when I had a fall and cut my head, and here is the mark, putting his hair aside, and my father was very angry with those who had the care of me." The woman, who kept an eating-house, to which his father sometimes came, having heard that his son and heir was dead, felt no little surprise to see the child reduced to so miserable a condition. She knew enough of the extravagance and necessities of the father, and that certain leases, on which money was raised, could not be granted while his son was publicly known to be alive; and not doubting his innocent assertions, gave him not only food but clothes, and promised to write to his father.

In the meantime, his uncle came to the house, and the good woman told him what she had heard and done. He said it was an imposition, for his nephew was dead. I mean the boy that was called my brother's son; for though his lady had a child, he was not the father. "I can say nothing to such a distinction," replied the woman, "but as he was born in wedlock, he must be the heir, and ought to be educated in an agreeable manner."

The uncle desired to see him, who, being new clothed, and having beautiful hair, came in with an engaging mien, and most respectful behaviour, to his benefactress, as well as to the gentleman, as he appeared to be of distinction, who, instead of being moved with compassion, sternly cried out, "What name is this you take upon you?"" I take none upon me, sir, but what I brought

into the world with me, and was always called by. Nobody will say but I am the son of the Baron of A———.” "By whom?" demanded the gentleman."By his wife, the Baroness of A-,” replied the other, with more resolution than could be expected." Tha you are a bastard," cried the uncle, "for your mother was a reprobate." "If I was a man, you should not use my mother or me thus, whoever you are," said the child, with tears in his eyes, which moved the woman of the house to intercede for milder treatment.

The child said, at last, he knew the gentleman was his uncle, for he came once with his father to see him at school; but the good uncle replied he knew nothing of it, and went out of the room; the woman followed, and entreated him to consider his nephew, and not refuse him a proper education. He promised to speak to his brother, but desired her to keep the affair private. He was, indeed, as good as his word, informed his brother et the condition his nephew was in, but observed furti -1, that although some care should be taken of his edation, it would be of ill consequence, on account of ti. leases, were he known to be alive, before the Baron's decease. He therefore advised St. Omer's, or some place beyond the sea, where he might be trained up at a st...” expense. The Baron readily approved this advice, a gave his brother money to reimburse the woman, and ir further expenses. The uncle took the conduct of t whole affair upon himself. The first step he made ▾ to agree with the master of a ship bound for Pennsylva: for a sum of money paid down, to transport a l thither, and sell him to the fairest bidder. To palier the villany, he told the Captain the boy was the nati son of a person of condition, but had vilely behave. and as he deserved no regard on that score, his friegels were loth to suffer disgrace by him, therefore chose t