dition, which they agreed to be past remedy, Dr. Shorter, fetching a deep sigh, said, 'Well, I can do him no good, but he has done me a great deal.'

"When Dr. Radcliffe came to reside in London, he made inquiry about Dr. Shorter, and understood he was before that time a libertine in principles, but after that he professed the Roman Catholic religion. I heard Dr. Radcliffe give this account at my Lord Oxford's table, then Speaker of the House of Commons, June 16th, 1702; present, besides Mr. Speaker, Lord Weymouth, Mr. Bromley of Warwickshire, Mr. William Harvey, Mr. Pendarvis, Mr. Henry St. John; and I wrote it down immediately. WM. THOMAS."

Only a few days before Rochester expired, Burnet hastened to pay a visit to his former disputant. "He told me," says Burnet, "as his strength served him at several snatches (for he was then so low that he could not hold up discourse long at once), what sense he had of his past life; what sad apprehension for having so offended his Maker, and dishonoured his Redeemer: what horrors he had gone through, and how much his mind was turned to call on God, and on his crucified Saviour. So that he hoped he should obtain mercy, for he believed he had sincerely repented; and had now a calm in his mind, after that storm he had been in for some weeks. He had strong apprehensions and persuasions of his admittance to Heaven; of which he spake not without some extraordinary, emotion."

Among other subjects affecting his spiritual welfare, he spoke of the efficacy of a death-bed repentance, and inquired Burnet's opinion on the subject. As regarded himself, he said, he freely forgave every one; he bore ill-will to no man; he had made arrangements

for the payment of his debts, and suffered pain with cheerfulness. He added that "he was contented either to die or live, as should please God; and, though it was a foolish thing for a man to pretend to choose whether he would die or live, yet he wished rather to die. He knew he could never be so well, that life should be comfortable to him. He was confident he should be happy if he died, but he feared if he lived he might relapse." To his friends he sent affectionate messages, reminding them of the uncertain tenure of life, and enjoining them to publish to the world whatever circumstances connected with his own life and death might possibly be beneficial to others. It was his prayer, he said, that, as he had inflicted injury on religion by his life, he might at least do it some service by his death.

For his wife, who joined with him in receiving the Sacrament, he expressed the greatest tenderness. He called his children also to his bedside, to whom he solemnly bequeathed his dying blessing and advice. Aubrey says, "he even sent for all his servants, except his cow-herd, and, while they surrounded his bed, expressed his remorse to them for his former dissolute life and pernicious opinions." According to the same writer, he affirmed that Hobbes and the philosophers had been his ruin: "This," he cried, laying his hand energetically upon his Bible," this is the true philosophy."

At last, nature having been entirely spent, he died without a struggle, in the Ranger's lodge in Woodstock Park, on the 26th of July, 1680, in his thirty-third year. The apartment in which he expired was pointed out to the visitor at Woodstock within the last year or two, and, it is to be hoped, is still in existence. He was buried by the side of his father, under the north aisle of Spilsbury church, in Oxfordshire.

On the occasion of Rochester's death, we find Archbishop Tillotson entering the following remarks among his private papers.

"Bad men are infidels se defendendo. When the affection to our lusts is gone, the objections against religion vanish of themselves.

"The greatest instance any age hath afforded of reformation: not for his own sake, as St. Paul was not, who yet was no enemy to God and religion, but by mistake. I cannot think but it was intended for some greater good to others.

"Atheism and infidelity do not bind up the senses of men strong enough, but they may be awakened by the apprehension of death, or some greater calamity coming upon them."

By his Countess, Rochester left four children ;Charles, who succeeded him, who died on the 12th of November, 1681, in his minority;-Anne, married to Henry Bainton, Esq., and afterwards to Francis, son of Fulke Greville, Lord Broke ;-Elizabeth, married to Edward Montagu, Earl of Sandwich;-and Mallet, who became the wife of John Vaughan, first Viscount Lisburne, in Ireland, and ancestor of the present Earl. The title of Rochester became extinct on the death of his son.

HENRY JERMYN, LORD DOVER.

Jermyn's Popularity with the Fair Sex-His personal AppearanceHis Intrigue with the Duchess of Cleveland-Banished the Court -His Duel with Thomas Howard-His Death and Burial.

THIS frivolous coxcomb, who turned the heads of half the women of the Court of Charles, and whose name figures so conspicuously in its meretricious annals, was a younger son of Thomas Jermyn, Esq., of Rushbroke, in Suffolk. The kindness of his uncle, Henry Jermyn Earl of St. Albans,-the supposed husband of Henrietta Maria,-ensured him a favourable reception at Court, and enabled him to follow the course of pleasure which was the darling object of his life.

During the exile of the royal family, the Princess of Orange, sister of Charles the Second, was supposed to have been enamoured of him. Accordingly, at the Restoration he found his character for gallantry established, and the ladies predisposed to become his slaves. Nevertheless, if the portrait drawn of him by Count Hamilton affords a correct likeness, the invincible Jermyn" must have possessed so few agreeable qualifi cations, either of mind or person, that his success seems almost incredible. "Jermyn," says the Count, "was brave, and certainly a gentleman, yet he had neither brilliant actions, nor distinguished rank to set him off; and, as for his figure, he had nothing to boast of. He was diminutive in his person, his head large, and his legs small his features were not disagreeable, but he was extremely affected in his carriage and behaviour.

His wit consisted entirely in expressions learned by rote, which he occasionally employed either in raillery or love. This was the whole foundation of the merit of a man so formidable in his amours." As Jermyn had formerly been an admirer of Miss Hamilton, a prejudice against him in the pages of De Grammont may be readily understood.

The beautiful Mrs. Hyde,* then a young and happy wife, had early fallen headlong in love with the admired Jermyn; but it was the favours of the Duchess of Cleveland which raised his glory to its highest pitch. Charles affected to despise his rival; but nevertheless dismissed him from Court. As the King made a point of never interfering with the gallantries of his friends, he was the more provoked by the infidelity of his mistress and the insolence of Jermyn. It may be mentioned, as an instance of Charles's good-nature, that he no sooner came to terms with the imperious Duchess, than he consented to Jermyn's recall. The latter, however, it appears, remained for several months sulking at his country-seat; "setting up," says Count Hamilton, "for a little philosopher, under the eyes of the sportsmen in the neighbourhood, who regarded him as an extraordinary instance of the mutability of fortune." According to the Count, his sole motive for returning to Court was to make an attack on Miss Jennings's

* Theodosia, daughter of Arthur, first Lord Capel, was the first wife of Henry Hyde, afterwards Lord Cornbury, and Earl of Clarendon. Count Hamilton describes her person: "She was of a middle size, had a skin of a dazzling whiteness, fine hands, and a foot surprisingly beautiful, even in England: long custom had given such a languishing tenderness to her looks, that she never opened her eyes but like a Chinese; and when she ogled, one would have thought she was doing something worse." Her son succeeded as third Earl of Clarendon, and died in 1723.

VOL. III.

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