It will not be out of place in concluding the notice of a family connected with the earliest infancy of Blackpool, to state something of the character and habits of Thomas Tyldesley, of Fox Hall, as disclosed by, and deduced from, the entries in his diary, which unfortunately comprises only the last three years of his life. At the present time the appearance of a party of gentlemen in this neighbourhood decorated with curled wigs, surmounted by three-cornered hats, and habited in long-figured waistcoats, plush breeches, and red-heeled boots, would excite no little astonishment, yet in the days of the diarist the sight must have been one of usual occurrence, for such was the style of costume worn by the wealthier classes. The lower classes were clothed in garments made from the undyed wool of the sheep and called hodden gray. Thomas Tyldesley was a great equestrian, his journeys being so frequent and rapid that it is difficult to be certain of his whereabouts when he finished his day’s work and its minute record, with the final “soe to beed.” He was on terms of intimacy and friendship with the Rigbys of Layton, the Veales of Whinney Heys, the Westbys of Burn Hall, and all the wealthy families in the neighbourhood. Fishing, hunting, coursing, and shooting were his favourite recreations. Nor was he unmindful in the midst of these amusements of the interests of his farm, as the accompanying remarks amply testify:—“Very bussy all morning in my hay;” and “Alday in the house and my garden, bussy transplanting colleflowʳ and cabage plants;” whilst at other times we find him in communication with various tenants relative to some portion or other of the Myerscough property. Unless confined to bed by gout or rheumatism, and the self-imposed, but fearful, “Phissickings” he underwent, swallowing doses whose magnitude alone would appal most men of modern days, he was ever actively engaged in either business or pleasure. Every item of disbursement and every circumstance that occurred, even to the most trivial, has found a place in his diary, and from it we learn that while evidently anxious to avoid unnecessary expenditure, he was neither parsimonious nor illiberal, always recompensing those who had been put to any trouble on his account, and paying his share of each friendly gathering with a scrupulous exactness. There is, however, a satisfaction expressed in the words, “but spent noe thing,” after the brief notice of the horse-race he had attended on the Hawes, which, when we call to mind his natural generosity, showed that his income required care in its expenditure, and was barely sufficient to support the position he held by birth. Many other entries in his diary prove that he was frequently short of money, and as his mode of living appears to have been far from extravagant, it seems difficult at first sight to account for the circumstance. But when we discover that he had for years been connected,