"Jock of Norfolk" is represented by a descendant of noble impulses. Elgin, Carlisle, Stanley--the Bruce, the Howard, the Stanley of former days--are our true heroes of society, men of great aims and great powers. The Duchess of Gordon was indefatigable in her ambition, but she could not always entangle dukes. Her second daughter, Madelina, was married first to Sir Robert Sinclair; and secondly, to Charles Fyshe Palmer, Esq., of Luckley Hall, Berkshire. Lady Madelina was not handsome, but extremely agreeable, animated, and intellectual. Among her other conquests was the famous Samuel Parr, of Hatton, who used to delight in sounding her praises, and recording her perfections with much of that eloquence which is now fast dying out of remembrance, but which was a thing _a part_ in that celebrated Grecian. Susan, the third daughter of the duke and duchess, married William, Duke of Manchester, thus becoming connected with a descendant of John, Duke of Marlborough. Louisa, the fourth daughter, married Charles, second Marquis Cornwallis, and son of the justly celebrated Governor of India; and Georgiana, the fifth and youngest, became the wife of John, the late Duke of Bedford. Such alliances might have satisfied the ambition of most mothers; but for her youngest and most beautiful daughter, the Duchess of Bedford, the Duchess of Cordon had even entertained what she thought higher views. In 1802, whilst Buonaparte was first consul, and anticipating an imperial crown, the Duchess of Gordon visited Paris, and received there such distinctions from Napoleon Bonaparte, then first consul, as excited hopes in her mind of an alliance with that man whom, but a few years previously, she would probably have termed an adventurer! Paris was then, during the short peace, engrossed with fetes, reviews, and dramatic amusements, the account of which makes one almost fancy oneself in the year 1852, that of the _coup d'etat_, instead of the period of 1802. The whirlwinds of revolution seemed then, as now, to have left all unchanged; the character of the people, who were still devoted to pleasure, and sanguine, was, on the surface, gay and buoyant as ever. Buonaparte holding his levees at the Tuileries, with all the splendour of majesty, reminds one of his nephew performing similar ceremonies at the Elysee, previously to his assuming the purple. All republican simplicity was abandoned, and the richest taste displayed on public occasions in both eras. Let us picture to ourselves the old, quaint palace of the Tuileries on a reception day then; and the impression made on the senses will serve for the modern drama; be it comedy, or be it tragedy, which is to be played out in those stately rooms wherein so many actors have passed and repassed to their doom.