Navy, and was constantly he knew all that was said and done cellent faculty for business; was a taste in artistic matters, in books He also wrote some books, now a kept his journal in a sort of short-l was not deciphered till long after 1 never would have written with qui shown there if he had known that t we should be gloating over his page it to be solely for his own eye, he W the petty occurrences of his day, mi that goes to make up history. He ful old gossip, who tells the color of much his new suit cost; when his w how she looked in it; what play and how he liked it; how King Ch was on his most unkingly behavior; the palace at Whitehall. One gets idea of the manners of the court of what very bad manners they were. see what a gossip Samuel Pepys was. both little and great, he touches on i to quote most of his entries for the 1663, beginning with the last Sunda

Nov. 29th-Lord's day.-This morning

cloth suit, trimmed with salt ihos, y vi

lined with velvet, and a new beare, which she

with my black silk kit canons bogitamu
30th.-At Whitehall, Sir W. Penn and at the De
in the matted gallery, and then be used wi

King's Bench before Lord Chief
of a ship, and it was pleasant to we wint

ds at such and such places, and shoot at ad this is their hunting. Against a public t no wolves be killed by the people. And Duke makes good to the person that instanced in the house where he lodged, g-sty and bit three or four pieces off the use could come to help it, and the man ere three or four wolves thereabouts that no matter, for the Duke was to make it uld kill them.

seamen did give, and could not be gitt peate and
their terms such as the Judge could not understand and
silly the counsel and Judge would speak as inde
in the matter, would make one laugh: and he alre
that was forced to speak in French and this an Engist
not understand, and had an interpreten to tell
hich was the best testimony of all

7th-1 bear there was last night the paste th
membered in England to have been in time-Wind
ving been drowned. To Whitehall, and the Eng
York) and the Duchess come to dinner à fe
rer saw them before; but it seems since the talle
realtogether. The Queen is pretty well,
to her little chapel in the house. The King of Fr
vring of ixty sail of ships of the lutch, but it is a

-To St. Paul's churchyard, to my bok lerk and
hether to lay out my money for

my nature was most earnest in;

ee a cock-fight at a new pit there, a spot but, Lord! to see the strange variety of to the poorest 'prentices, bakers, brewers' not, and all these fellows one with ansoon had enough of it. It is strange to k, that look as they had not bread to put ree or four pounds at a time and lose it, next battle, so that one will lose £10

lle's History of Pauls, Stow's London,
's and Beaumont's plays, I at lut dhe Bler Wi

on of letters of Slote, with another

e or serious pleasure; and Hudibra
greatest fashion for drollery, thought
e wit lies. My mind being thus estled by
my office, and to read in Rushworth, and w
ed. Calling at Wotton's, my sen
Sir. H. Wright is dying; and that is

were embroidered or ornamental

was the favorite palace of Charles
to know that this Penn was the Admin P

sylvania. The Duke of York watervals
tire-see description.

Whitehall I heard the King was gone to a the new tennis court and saw him and ainst my Lord of Suffolk and my Lord at three and lost two sets; they all, and 1, I thought. Thence went and spoke about his wound, but I find him a heavy, e. The Duchess of York is fallen sick

long and sore sickness, is become well ls his pleasures a little too much, if it things will go well, and in the navy parlo my duty, whatever comes of it. The of the King of France, whether against ain, nobody knows, but a great and promhe princes of Europe have their eye upon ntered into Germany, and all that part of to expect from his proceedings. Myself, way, and design and resolution of sticking ttle money with, doing the best service I God continue. So ends the old year.

at a garrulous fellow Pepys was, and his diary touches, and yet, in the end, a liking for him, and to be sure that,

Duke's House again; and of a rare play to be acted this week of Sir William Davenant's, the story of Harry the Eighth, with all his wives.

11th.-At the coffee-house I went and sat by Mr. Harrington and some east-country merchants, and talking of the country above Quinsborough, and thereabouts, he told us that for fish none than the poorest body will buy a dead fish unless it be in the winter; and then he told us the manner of putting their nets into the water. Through holes made in the thick ice they will spread a net of half a mile long; and he hath known a hundred and thirty and a hundred and seventy barrels of fish taken out at one draught. And then the people come with sledges upon the ice with snow at the bottom, and lay the fish in and cover them with snow and so carry them to market. And he has been where the said fish have been frozen in the sledge and broke in pieces, so hard it has been, and yet the same pieces taken out of the snow and brought into a hot room will be alive and leap up and down.* Swallows are often brought up in the nets out of the mud from under water, hanging together to some twig or other, dead, in ropes, and brought to the fire, will come to life. Fowl killed in December (Alderman Barker said) he did buy, and putting into the box under his sledge, did forget to take them out to eat till April next, and then they were found there and went through the frost as sweet and fresh, and eat as well, as when first killed. Young bears appear there; the flesh sold in market as ordinarily as beef here, and is excellent, sweet meat, They tell us that bears there never do hurt anybody, but fly away from you when you pursue them and set upon them, but wolves do much mischief. Mr. Harrington told us how they do get as much honey as they send abroad. They make hollow a great fir-tree, leaving only a small slit straight through in one place, and this they close up again, only leave a little hole, and there the bees go in and fill the body of those trees as full of wax and honey as they can hold; and the inhabitants at times go and open the slit and take what they please without killing the bees, and so let them live still, and make

more.

The great entertainment and sport of the Duke of Corland, and the princes thereabout, is hunting; which is not with dogs as we; but he appoints such a day, and summons all the country people to a field, and by several companies gives everyone their circuit, and they agree upon a place where the toils is to be set; and so, making fires, every company as they go, they drive all the wild beasts, whether bears, wolves, foxes, swine and stags and roes into the toils, and there the

*This story all sounds rather exaggerated, and we fear this unknown Mr. Harrington may have been gulling Mr. Pepys.

great men have their stands at such and such places, and shoot at what they have a mind to; and this is their hunting. Against a public hunting the Duke orders that no wolves be killed by the people. And whatever harm they do, the Duke makes good to the person that suffers it, as Mr. Harrington instanced in the house where he lodged, where a wolf broke into a hog-sty and bit three or four pieces off the back of the hog before the house could come to help it, and the man of the house told him there were three or four wolves thereabouts that did great hurt; but it was no matter, for the Duke was to make it good to him, otherwise he would kill them.

21st. To Shoe Lane to see a cock-fight at a new pit there, a spot I never was at in my life; but, Lord! to see the strange variety of people, from parliament, men to the poorest 'prentices, bakers, brewers' butchers, draymen and what not, and all these fellows one with another cursing and betting. I soon had enough of it. It is strange to see how people of this low rank, that look as they had not bread to put into their mouths, shall bet three or four pounds at a time and lose it, and yet bet as much at the next battle, so that one will lose £10 and £20 at a meeting.

28th. Walking through Whitehall I heard the King was gone to play at tennis, so I went down the new tennis court and saw him and Sir Arthur Slingsby play against my Lord of Suffolk and my Lord Chesterfield. The King beat three and lost two sets; they all, and he particularly, playing well, I thought. Thence went and spoke with the Duke of Albermarle about his wound, but I find him a heavy, dull man by his answers to me. The Duchess of York is fallen sick with the measles.

31st. The Queen, after a long and sore sickness, is become well again; and the King minds his pleasures a little too much, if it please God! But I hope all things will go well, and in the navy particularly, wherein I shall do my duty, whatever comes of it. The great talk is of the design of the King of France, whether against the Pope or the King of Spain, nobody knows, but a great and promising prince he is, and all the princes of Europe have their eye upon him. The Turk, very far entered into Germany, and all that part of the world is at a loss what to expect from his proceedings. Myself, blessed by God, in a good way, and design and resolution of sticking to my business to get a little money with, doing the best service I can to the King also, which God continue. So ends the old year.

You see from this what a garrulous fellow Pepys was, and on how many subjects his diary touches, and yet, in the end, you cannot fail to feel a liking for him, and to be sure that,

in an age of corruption, he meant, as he says, to "do his duty, Pepys kept his journal only ten

whatever come of it."

years from 1659 to 1669.

The fine shorthand or cypher in

which he wrote it was so trying to his eyesight that he was then obliged to give it up. Evelyn's journal covers a much longer space of time-from 1641 to 1705. Both of these diaries, however, record the return of Charles to the throne, the great plague that spread over London in 1665, the great fire which, in 1666, almost consumed the city, and it is interesting to compare the two accounts of these events.

We will read from Evelyn the account of the great fire, which is a vivid bit of description, and, some other time, I advise you to read the corresponding account in Pepys. It will give you an excellent idea of the difference in these two characters:

EVELYN'S DIARY, SEPTEMBER, 1666.

2d. Sept.-This fatal night, about ten, began the deplorable fire near Fish Street, London.

3rd Sept.—I had public prayers at home. The fire continuing after dinner, I took coach with my wife and son, and went to the Bankside in Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful flames near the water side; all the houses from the bridge, all Thames street, and upwards towards Cheapside, were now consumed; and so returned exceedingly astonished what would become of the rest. * * * The conflagration was so universal and the people so astonished, that from the beginning, feeling I know not what despondency or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it, so that there was nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures, without at all attempting even to save their goods; such a strange consternation there was upon them, and as it burned in breadth and length, the churches, public halls, exchange hospital, monuments and ornaments, leaping after a prodigious manner from house to house, and street to street, at great distances one from the other. For the heat, with a long set of fair and warm weather, had even ignited the air, and prepared the materials to conceive the fire which devoured after an incredible manner, houses, furniture, and everything. Here we saw the Thames covwith goods floating, all the barges and boats ladened with what some had time and courage to save, as, on the other side,