of universal worth, and in great estimation among the Literati, for his unbounded reading, his sound judgment, his great elocution, his mastery in method, his singular curiosity, and his uncommon munificence towards the advancement of learning, arts, and industry, in all degrees to which were joined the severest morality of a philosopher, and all the polite accomplishments of a gentleman, particularly those of music, languages, conversation, and address. He assisted, as one of the Barons of the Cinque Ports, at the Coronation of James II., and was a standing Governor of all the principal houses of charity in and about London, and sat at the head of many other honourable bodies, in divers of which, as he deemed their constitution and methods deserving, he left lasting monuments of his bounty and patronage."

The remarkable Diary which constitutes his best claim to remembrance he begun to keep on the 1st of January, and he continued it for upwards of nine years, when his failing eyesight compelled him to abandon his daily task. It is written in shorthand, the cipher used bearing a closeresemblance to that which was long in vogue as Rich's system. Forming six manuscript volumes, the Diary was included among the books and papers which Pepys bequeathed to Magdalene College; but its valuable contents were not made public until Lord Braybrooke's edition appeared in 1825. A fuller edition has since been published by the Rev. Mynors Bright.

The Diary is as unique of its kind as the "Autobiography of Thomas Bunche," by Amory, or Hazlitt's "Liber Amoris." In its frank self-revelations, it stands unequalled. Probably regarding his secrets as safe in their cipher embodiment, Pepys jotted down his most private

thoughts and the minutest details of his household economy. He put on record his egotism, his love of flattery, his likings and dislikings, his petty disagreements with his wife (of whom, however, he was exceedingly fond), and his not very creditable flirtations with the pretty women whom his large circle of acquaintanceship embraced. He hides nothing of himself, nor from himself; and writes down his selfish and crafty little deeds of wickedness as candidly as he does the great public events of his day. We must grant that he was a man of wide and liberal sympathies. His vivacity was inexhaustible, and

it was with an interest ever fresh he turned to the last new play, the last new song, the last new beauty, or the last new discovery in science. He puts down, with equal gravity, his assumption of "a false taby wastecoate with gold lace," and the progress of the Plague in London. He preserves at almost equal length his discourses on high affairs of State, and his junketings with Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Knip. Unlike Evelyn, he has no sense of dignity-he does not think it beneath him to make formal entry that "I dined with my wife 'upon a most excellent dish of tripes of my own directing, covered with mustard, as I have heretofore seen them done at my Lord Crewe's, of which I made a very great meal, and sent for a glass of wine for myself." The fact is, everything in which Samuel Pepys was concerned was to Samuel Pepys, for the time being, an event of engrossing importance, than which the whole world presented nothing greater.

It was fortunate for posterity that this egotistical,. gossiping, self-seeking, yet shrewd observer, was led to keep the detailed record of the early years of Charles II.'s reign which his Diary presents. Its audaciously candid

talk makes it invaluable. It is the very minuteness of its details which renders it so precious, for it enables us to fill up the outlines in which historians love to deal. "Pepys," says Lord Jeffrey, "seems to have been possessed of the most extraordinary activity, and the most indiscriminating, insatiable, and miscellaneous curiosity that ever prompted the researches or supplied the pen of a daily chronicler. He finds time to go to every play, to every execution, to every procession, fire, concert, riot, trial, review, city feast, or picture-gallery that he can hear of. Nay, there seems scarcely to have been a school examination, a wedding, christening, charity sermon, bull-baiting, philosophical meeting, or private merry-making in his neighbourhood at which he is not sure to make his appearance, and mindful to record all the particulars. He is the first to hear all the Court scandal, and all the public news-to observe the changes of fashion and the downfall of parties-to pick up family gossip, and to detail philosophical intelligence-to criticize every new house or carriage that is built-every new book or new beauty that appears-every measure the King adopts, and every mistress he discards."

The interest and importance of the Diary, in the number and closeness of its photographic touches, will best be shown by a few extracts from its crowded pages. We have said that he went with Sir Edward Montague to bring back Charles II. to his recovered kingdom. Here is his description, characteristic in every touch, of the King's landing :

"1660, May 25th.-By the morning we were come close to the land, and everybody made ready to get on shore. The King and the two Dukes did eat their breakfast

before they went; and there being set some ship's diet before them, only to show them the manner of the ship's diet, they eat of nothing else but pease and pork and boiled beef. . . . I spoke to the Duke of York about business, who called me Pepys by name [ah, what an honour !], and upon my desire did promise me his future favour. Great expectation of the King's making some Knights, but there was none. About noon (though the brigantine that Beale made was then ready to carry him) yet he would go in my Lord's barge with the two Dukes. Our captain steered, and my Lord went along bare with him. I went, and Mr Mansell, and one of the King's footmen, and a dog that the King loved, in a boat by ourselves, and so got on shore when the King did, who was received by General Monk* with all imaginable love and respect at his entrance upon the land at Dover. Infinite the crowd of people and the gallantry of the horsemen, citizens, and noblemen of all sorts. The Mayor of the town came and give him his white staff, the badge of his place, which the King did give him again. The Mayor also presented him from the town a very rich Bible, which he took, and said it was the thing that he loved above all things in the world. A canopy was provided for him to stand under, which he did, and talked awhile with General Monk and others, and so into a stately coach there set for him, and so away through the town towards Canterbury, without making any stay at Dover. The shouting and joy expressed by all is past imagination. Seeing that my Lord did not stir out of his barge, I got into a boat, and so into his barge, and we back to the ship, seeing a man

"To receive His Majesty as a malefactor would his pardon," says Monk's biographer.

almost drowned that fell into the sea. My Lord almost transported with joy that he had done all this without any the least blur or obstruction in the world, that could give offence to any, and with the great honour he thought it would be to him."

On the next day but one, May 27th, Montague was made a Knight of the Garter. Other honours followed, as the wary seaman had calculated.

"June 23rd. To my Lord's lodgings, where Tom Guy came to me, and there stayed to see the King touch people for the King's Evil. But he did not come at all, it rained so; and the poor people were forced to stand all the morning in the rain in the garden. Afterwards he touched them in the Banqueting-House."

This superstitious ceremony was of great antiquity, dating back as far, perhaps, as the reign of Edward the Confessor. It had fallen into disuse during the Civil War, but revived at the Restoration with increased popularity, so that in the first four years of Charles's reign he "touched " nearly 24,000 persons. It expired in the reign of George I. Here is a quaint little personal touch :—

"July 1st (Lord's Day).-Infinite of business, my heart and head full. Met with Purser Washington, with whom and a lady, a friend of his, I dined at the Bell Tavern in King Street, but the rogue had no more manners than to invite me, and to let me pay my club. This morning came home my fine camlet cloak, with gold buttons, and a silk suit, which cost me much money, and I pray God to make me able to pay for it."

"July 8th (Lord's Day). To White Hall Chapel, where I got in with ease by going before the Lord Chancellor with Mr. Kipps. Here I heard very good musique, the