they at length reached St. James's, vowing never more to go after fortune-tellers, through so many dangers, terrors, and alarms, as they had lately undergone."

Rochester was soon afterwards recalled to Court, where he resumed his old course of profligate folly. In his lucid intervals he read a good deal, and it seems that he was specially partial to the study of history. He did not refrain from his ironical comments on his Sovereign's infirmities. Charles was very fond of repeating the story of his adventures in Scotland and Paris, and this he did with such frequency that Rochester said, severely, " He wondered that a man with so good a memory as to repeat the same story without losing the least circumstance, yet could not remember that he had told it to the same person the very day before." Still sharper was the wellknown epigram which penetrated even through the King's easy indifference :

"Here lies our sovereign lord the King,

Whose word no man relies on;

He never said a foolish thing,

And never did a wise one."

The sting of this terse satire lay, no doubt, in its truth. Charles, we are told, never forgave it.

Like Lord Lytton's Gabriel Varney, Rochester possessed a constitution which alcoholic excess could not directly affect. It was a dangerous organisation, and, perhaps, the ruin of his life was partly owing to this physical gift. "He was unhappily made for drunkenness," says Bishop Burnet, "for he had drunk all his friends dead, and was able to subdue two or three sets of drunkards one after another: so it scarce ever appeared that he was disordered after the greatest drinking: an hour or two of

sleep carried all off entirely, that no sign of them remained. He would go about business without any uneasiness, or discovering heat either in body or mind." But a terrible Nemesis dogged the profligate's footsteps. "After he had killed all his friends, he fell at last into such weakness of stomach, that he had perpetual cholic when he was not within, and full of strong liquor, of which he was frequently seized, so that he was always either sick or drunk."

He was not yet thirty when his constitution suddenly gave way, and the brilliant wit found himself overtaken by a premature old age. Feeble and weary, dissatisfied with himself, conscious of the manner in which he had abused his powers, he began to turn his mind to serious thoughts, and with remorse for the past mingled uncertainty as to the future. Might not that religion be true which he had so constantly ridiculed ? And if so, then, indeed, he had cause to tremble! About this time he made the acquaintance of Bishop Burnet, and held with him many earnest conversations on those great truths which concern the eternal destiny of man. The Bishop has left a record of these conversations, which it is impossible to read without the liveliest interest. Rochester was not at once converted; but it does not appear that he ever had been a confirmed atheist, and his disbelief was that of the head rather than that of the heart.

In the spring of 1680, Rochester retired to his country seat at Woodstock, and in the fresh country air recovered some small portion of his former health. But the exertion of a long journey on horseback into Somersetshire proved too much for his enfeebled frame, and he returned to Woodstock with the shadow of death upon him.

Suffering acutely from a troubled conscience, he sought the advice of Mr. Parsons, his mother's chaplain; he was also attended by the Bishop of Oxford, Dr. Marshall, rector of Lincoln, and Dr. Pierce, President of Magdalen. One day, while Mr. Parsons was reading to the invalid that 53rd chapter of Isaiah, which has ever been expressibly dear to the Christian, a sudden light seemed to break upon his mind, and the darkness of unfaith in which he had hitherto been involved was swept aside. He was not only convinced by the argument which Mr. Parsons founded upon it, but by a Divine power which moved him so effectually that thenceforward he believed as firmly in his Saviour as if, like Thomas, he had seen the wounded side, and the prints of the nails in the hands and feet. The sincerity and completeness of his conversion appear in the letter which, at this time, he wrote to Dr. Pierce :

"My indisposition renders my intellectuals almost as feeble as my person, but considering the candour and extreme charity your natural mildness hath always shown me, I am assured at once of a favourable construction of my present lines, which can but faintly express the sorrowful character of an humble and afflicted mind: and also those great comforts your inexhaustible goodness, learning, and piety, plenteously afford to the drooping spirits of poor sinners, so that I may truly say,Holy man to you I owe what consolation I enjoy, in urging God's mercies against despair, and holding me up under the weight of those high and mountainous sins, my wicked and ungovernable life hath heaped upon me. If God shall be pleased to spare me a little longer here, I have unalterably resolved to become a new man; to wash

out the stains of my lewd courses with my tears, and weep over the profane and unhallowed abominations of my former doings; that the world may see how I loath sin, and abhor the very remembrance of those tainted and unclean joys I once delighted in; these being, as the Apostle tells us, the things whereof I am now ashamed; or, if it be His great pleasure now to put a period to my days, that He will accept my last gasp, that the smoke of my deathbed offering may not be unsavoury to His nostrils, and drive me like Cain from His presence.

Pray for me, dear Doctor, and all you that forget not God, pray for me fervently. Take heaven by force, and let me enter with you in disguise; for I dare not appear before the dread majesty of that Holy One I have so often offended. Warn all my friends and companions to a true and sincere repentance to-day, while it is called today, before the evil day come and they be no more. Let them know that sin is like the Angel's book in the Revelations, it is sweet in the mouth, but bitter in the belly. Let them know that God will not be mocked; that He is an holy God, and will be served in holiness and purity, that requires the whole man and the early man: bid them make haste, for the night cometh when no man can work. Oh that they were wise, that they would consider this, and not with me, with wretched me, delay it until their latter end. Pray, dear sir, continually pray for your poor friend,

"ROCHESTER."

A narrative exists in the British Museum of a visit paid to the dying Earl by one of his boon companions, who seems to have been ignorant of his illness:

"When Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, lay on his death

bed, Mr. Fanshawe* came to visit him, with an intention to stay about a week with him. Mr. Fanshawe, sitting by the bedside, perceived his lordship praying to God through Jesus Christ, and acquainted Dr. Radcliffe, who attended my Lord Rochester in this illness, and was then in the house, with what he had heard; and told him, that my lord was certainly delirious, for to his knowledge, he said, he believed neither in God nor in Jesus Christ. The doctor, who had often heard him pray in the same manner, proposed to Mr. Fanshawe to go up to his lordship to be further satisfied touching this affair. When they came to his room, the doctor told my lord what Mr. Fanshawe said, upon which his lordship addressed himself to Mr. Fanshawe, to this effect: Sir, it is true you and I have been very bad and profane together, and then I was of the opinion you mention. But now I am quite of another mind, and happy am I that I am so. I am very sensible how miserable I was whilst of another opinion. Sir, you may assure yourself that there is a Judge and future state;' and so entered into a very handsome discourse concerning the Last Judgment, future state, &c., and concluded with a serious and pathetic exhortation to Mr. Fanshawe, to enter into another course of life; adding that he (Mr. F.) knew him to be his friend; that he never was more so than at this time: and, 'Sir,' said he, to use a Scripture expression, I am not mad, but speak the words of truth and soberness.' Upon this Mr. Fanshawe trembled, and went immediately a-foot to Woodstock, and there hired a horse to Oxford, and thence took coach to London."

* Probably Mr. William Fanshawe, who married Mary, one of Charles II.'s daughters by Mary Walters.