maker; another to a butcher's son, her fellow-
servant; a third to a jeweller; and a fourth to
an attorney, at his decease keeping a small day-
school for her bread. A Percy, it must be
owned with rather a shady title, was a trunk-
maker, and contended manfully for what he
deemed his rights. One of the great Nevilles,
a direct descendant of the proud "Peacock of
the North," sued royalty for a pittance to keep
her from starvation. John, Earl of Traquhair,
cousin of James the Sixth, stood begging in
the streets of Edinburgh, receiving alms "as
humbly and thankfully as the poorest
suppliant" and an Urquhart of Burdsyard, one of
the famous Urquharts of Cromarty, came as a
wandering beggar to his own hall door.

Then think of a "Princess of Connemara"
dying of misery on board a small sailing vessel, and
enabled to be on board at all only by the charity
of friends. She was one of the great Martins
of Galway, and came into nominal possession of an
estate of which the then owner boasted to George
the Fourth that it gave "an approach from his
gate-house to his hall of thirty miles length."
But Irish recklessness and Irish hospitality
in time crumpled up those thirty miles of land
into a six-foot plank on board a wretched
sailing vessel, and the poor half-starved princess,
the last of her great house, died an exile
and a pauper. The Act for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Animals, commonly called Dick
Martin's Act, was framed by that same Richard
Martin of Galway. It was a pity that he could
not exchange a little of his excessive tenderness
for animals for some common sense and
consideration for human beings.

The story of the glove-maker, William
Maclellan, Lord Kirkcudbright, is also another
singular instance of social changes.The Kirkcudbright
estates were carried off by creditors in
1669; and, as there was nothing left but the
empty title, the various heirs and possessors of
that dignity forbore to use it, and got their living
as they best could; the lord under present
notice getting his as a glove-maker. He used
to stand in the lobby of the Assembly Rooms in
Edinburgh selling gloves to the ball-goers; for,
according to the fashion of the time, a new
pair was required for every fresh dance. He
used to join the company at the ball following
the election of a representative peer, at which
he himself had given his vote. Then, as a
gentleman and nobleman, he danced with the
ladies to whom he had been glove-maker and
servant all the rest of the year. His son went
into the army, attained the rank of colonel,
and, "not satisfied with anything short of legal
recognition, submitted his peerage claim to the
House of Lords, by whose decision he was
declared seventh Lord Kirkcudbright on the 8th
of May, 1773."

"The Norwiches rose and fell by the smiles
of woman." In the beginning of things,
"Margaret Holt, the heiress of Brampton
manor, gave her heart and hand to Simon de
Norwich, and endowed him with her mansion
and lands;" and his grandson, another Simon
de Norwich, also married an heiress, and
acquired much goods and lands thereby. So the
wheel of fortune went merrily round for many
a generation, until the hitch came in the time
of Sir William Norwich, who drank, and gamed,
and rioted through life more luxuriously than
virtuously, losing his estates at card-playing, it
is said, to Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough—
by no means one of the kind to let loose what
she had once grasped. He withdrew to Harborough,
and died there in great poverty,1741.
Though buried with his kindred in
Brampton church, no stone or tablet marks the
spot or records his name. The title passed
to another branch of the family; but a title
without estates is but a poor patrimony, and the
last English descendant of the Norwiches, "Sir
Samuel Norwich," was for many years a sawyer
in Kettering. He was the eldest son of Sir John
who died in the parish workhouse, and whose
widow was a laundress. She was very poor and
very ignorant, and died in 1860, aged eighty.
The present heir of the family and holder of the
title, Sir William Norwich, is in America, and
said to be doing well; so perhaps the old family
will be revived in the future generations, all the
wiser for their bitter experience.

The story of Viscount Kingsland is again
one of the strangest of strange romances.
Descended from one of the old Anglo-Norman
families of Ireland—the Barnewalls of Meath—
the Viscounts Kingsland were among the
foremost families of olden times; but, by the
severance of land from title the estates passed
into other hands, and the name alone remained
to a race of paupers as a high-sounding
mockery in a reality of social misery. At last
the mockery itself fell into disuse, until Mr.
Hitchcock, a solicitor, took up the case and
carried it to so much of a triumphant end as
the reader may determine according to his own
lights. We will give Mr. Hitchcock's letter—
addressed to Ulster King of Arms—in extenso,
not being able to improve on it:

Dublin, September 26, 1862.
"My dear Sir Bernard. When the late Lord
Kingsland established his claim to the peerage, I
was a mere boy; but as my father was the solicitor
to whose enterprise, talent, and pecuniary
support he was indebted for success, he was very
much at our house during the progress of the
proceedings, and his extraordinary story became
as familiar to the family 'as household words.'
I am therefore enabled from recollection,
although half a century has elapsed since the time
of which I speak, to give you some outline of
his antecedents. He was born in some obscure
part of Dublin, and 'educated' in the vicinity
of Castle Market, where it was said he made
his 'first appearance in public' in the
'onerous' part of a basket-boy, his success in
which character led to his promotion in the
course of time to the more elevated position of
under-waiter at a tavern in Dawson-street. It
subsequently appears that, although in so lowly a
sphere, he entertained a dreamy notion, derived