The untimely death of his heir so affected Sir Nicholas that he abandoned his design, quitted Stonyhurst, and never returned. A monument to the memory of the ill-starred boy adorns the chapel at Mitton, and among the floral decorations upon it is a bunch of yew berries; beyond this there is no evidence of the cause of death save the tradition which has been handed down through successive generations, and is still implicitly believed by the village gossips. On the death of Sir Nicholas Sherburn, in 1717, the baronetage became extinct, and the extensive possessions of his house, in default of a male heir, passed, in accordance with the provisions of his will, dated August 9th of that year, after the decease of his widow, to his only daughter, Maria Winnifred Francesca, wife (first) of Thomas, eighth Duke of Norfolk, and (secondly), as already stated, of the Hon. Peregrin Widderington. The duchess died without issue September 25th, 1704, and was buried, in accordance with her expressed desire, at Mitton, when the estates reverted to the issue of her aunt Elizabeth, sister of Sir Nicholas Sherburn, who had married William, son and heir of Sir John Weld, of Lullworth Castle, in Dorsetshire. Edward Weld, the grandson by this marriage, was the first to inherit the property, and from him the estates passed in 1761 to his eldest son, Edward Weld, Esquire, who had to his second wife Mary Anne, youngest daughter of William Smyth, Esquire, of Brambridge, in Hampshire, who survived him, and in her second widowhood, as the relict of Thomas Fitzherbert, of Swinnerton, was privately married to “the first gentleman of Europe”—George, Prince of Wales, afterwards George the Fourth. On the death of Edward Weld, the first husband of Mrs. Fitzherbert, in 1775, without issue, the property passed to his only surviving brother, Thomas Weld, of Lullworth, who in 1794, when through the fury of the French Revolution the Jesuits were driven from their college at Liege, granted that body a lease of the Stonyhurst estate, and subsequently the property became theirs by purchase. Looking upon these magnificent memorials—this blazonry of human greatness—and contrasting the achievements of the sculptor’s art as here displayed with the bare simplicity and, until recent years, we might have said meanness, of the sanctuary itself, from which they are only separated by an open screen, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the proud Sherburns were more concerned for the perpetuation of their own greatness than for the honour and glory of God. Infinitely more appropriate is the humble and prayerful ejaculation we found graven upon the stone of poor Abbot Paslew, at Whalley, than this ostentatious chronicling of the virtues of poor frail humanity. Having spent some time in the examination of the Sherburn Chapel we stepped out into the quiet graveyard, among the grass-grown hillocks where the “rude forefathers” tranquilly repose, and—