been said to have been Monk's only virtue; he hesitated till it was too late, and then he who might have deserved and claimed a dukedom for his reward, was reduced to sue for pardon through Evelyn's means. Oh,' says Evelyn, the sottish omission of this gentleman! What did I not undergo of danger in this negociation to have brought him over to his Majesty's interest when it was entirely in his hands!'

29 May, 1660. This day his Majy Charles the Second came to London after a sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of the King and Church, being 17 yeares. This was also his birth-day, and with a triumph of 20,000 horse and foote, brandishing their swords and shouting with inexpressible joy; the wayes strew'd with flowers, the bells ringing, the streetes hung with tapistry, fountaines running with wine; the Maior, Aldermen, and all the Companies in their liveries, chaines of gold, and banners; Lords and Nobles clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet; the windowes and balconies all set with ladies; trumpets, music, myriads of people flocking, even so far as from Rochester, so as they were seven houres in passing the Citty, even from 2 in ye afternoone till 9 at night.

'I stood in the Strand and beheld it, and bless'd God. All this was don without one drop of bloud shed, and by that very army which rebell'd against him; but it was ye Lord's doing, for such a Restauration was never mention'd in any history ancient or modern, since the returne of the Jews from the Babylonish captivity; nor so joyfull a day and so bright ever seene in this Nation, this hapning when to expect or effect it was past all human policy.'-vol. i. p. 109, 110.

The Restoration, in which Evelyn thus piously rejoiced as a political blessing, affected him also in the happiness of his private life. It brought home his father-in-law Sir Richard Browne, after a nineteen years exile, during all which time he kept up in his chapel the liturgy and offices of the Church of England, to his no small honour; and in a time when it was so low, and as many thought utterly lost, that in various controversies both with papists and sectaries, our divines used to argue for the visibility of the church, from his chapel and congregation. Charles, during his exile, gave particular and repeated orders to have the church service regularly performed in his ambassador's house: whether he had during any part of his life a true sense of religion, may justly be questioned; but he was perfectly well aware how closely his own interests were connected with those of the Church of England, and therefore he obtained from his mother a promise that she would not practise upon the Duke of Gloucester to make him a papist, which was the secret wish of her heart. Henrietta was a thorough bigot, and her counsels would have been as fatal to her children as they were to her husband. Notwithstanding this promise, she used every endeavour

VOL. XIX. NO. XXXVII.

for

for what she supposed was the only means of securing the boy's salvation! Upon this occasion, Charles wrote to his brother: 'If, he says, 'you do hearken to her or any body Body els in that matter you must never think to see England or mee againe, & w'soeuer mischiefe shall fall on mee or my affaires from this time I must lay all upon you as being ye onely cause of it. Therefore consider well what it is to bee not only ye cause of ruining a Brother that loves you so well, but also of yor King & Country. Do not lett them p'suade you either by force or faire p'mises; for the first they neither dare, nor will use, and for the second, as soone as they have perverted you they will haue their End, and then they will care no more for you. I am also informed yt there is a purpose to putt you into ye Jesuits' Colledge, wch I command you upon ye same grounds neuer to consent unto. And when soeuer any body shall goe to dispute wth you in Religion doo not answere them at all. For though you haue the reaso' on yore side, yett they being prepared will haue ye aduantage of any body yt is not upon ye same Security that they are. If you do not consider what I say unto you, Remember y last words of yore dead Father, wch were to bee constant to yor Religion & neuer to bee shaken in it. Wch if you doe not obserue this shall bec ye last time you will heare from

(Deare Brother)

yo most affectione brother

CHARLES R.'-vol. ii. part ii. p. 142. Happy had it been for Charles if he had demeaned himself as well in his prosperous as in his adverse fortune! The facts which appear in these volumes are highly honourable to him and the companions of his exile, while Cromwell, as the Queen of Bohemia said, was like the Beast in the Revelations that all kings and nations worshipped. His horses, and some of them too were favourites, were sold at Brussels, because he could not pay for their keep, and during the two years that he resided at Cologne he never kept a coach. So straitened were the exiles for money, that even the postage of letters between Sir Richard Browne and Hyde was no easy burthen, and there was a mutiny in the ambassador's kitchen, because the maid 'might not be trusted with the government, and the buying the meat, in which she was thought too lavish.' Hyde writes that he had not been master of a crown for many months; that he was cold for want of clothes and fire, and for all the meat which he had eaten for three months he was in debt to a poor woman who was no longer able to trust. Our necessities, he says, would be more insupportable, if we did not see the king reduced to greater distress than you can believe or imagine. And when Sir Richard Browne had promised him a supply, he says, 'for your new noble offer I am not in a condition so plentiful to refuse it, for I must tell you that I have not had a Lewes of my own these three months; therefore when you send the bill, let me know whether you

lend

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lend me so much out of your own little stock, or whether it be the king's money, for in that case his Majesty shall be the disposer, since my office hath never yet, nor shall intitle me to take his money without his direction.'

Evelyn was received at court with that affability by which Charles was so happily gifted, that it was more difficult for him to lose the affections of his subjects, than it has been for other princes to gain them. The king called him his old acquaintance, and nominated him one of the council of the Royal Society, of which he had been just elected a fellow. He would have given him the Order of the Bath, but Evelyn declined it, and he promised to make his wife lady of the jewels to the future queen, a very honourable charge,' it is observed in the Diary, but which he never performed.' It was not long before he was chosen one of the commissioners for reforming the buildings, ways, streets and incumbrances, and regulating the hackney coaches in the city of London. And in 1664, when war was declared against the Dutch, he was appointed one of the commissioners for taking care of the sick and wounded, and the prisoners. There were four commissioners with a salary of £1200 a year among them, besides extraordinaries for their care and attention when upon duty; they had power to constitute officers, physicians, surgeons and provost-marshals, and to dispose of half of the hospitals through England. Mr. Evelyn's district comprized the counties of Kent and Sussex. The duty which fell upon him proved to be as perilous as it was painful. The Dutch, then at the height of their power, carried on the war with that spirit which became a great and brave people, who were unjustly attacked, and the prisoners and wounded men were brought in faster than the commissioners could provide for them;-miserable objects, says Evelyn, God knows! money and means of every kind were wanting, when a moderate expense would have saved thousands.' 'My wife,' he says in a letter to Lord Cornbery, 'is within a fortnight of bringing me my seventh son, and it is time, my lord, he were born, for they keep us so short of monies at court, that his majesty's commissioners had need of one to do wonders, and heal the sick and wounded by miracle, till we can maintain our chirurgeons.' In the midst of this distress the plague broke out, and soon raged with such violence that four and five thousand persons died weekly in London, where Evelyn had just obtained the Savoy for the sick and wounded. As the contagion was spreading around Deptford, he sent away his wife and family to Wotton, and staid himself to look after his charge, trusting in the Providence and goodness of God.' It was some time before this courageous woman, as he calls her, would be persuaded to take the alarm; 'my conscience,' he says, or something which I would

€ 2

have

have taken for my duty, obliges me to this sad station, till his Majesty take pity on me, and send me a considerable refreshment for the comfort of these poor creatures, the sick and wounded seamen under mine inspection through all the ports of my district.' His letters strongly express his feelings at this dreadful time, and shew also how much more he felt for others than for himself. One fortnight,' he says, 'has made me feel the utmost of miseries that can befall a person in my station and with my affections. To have 25,000 prisoners and 1500 sick and wounded men to take care of, without one penny of money, and above £2000 indebted.' And in

another letter, it were to betray his Majesty's gracious intentions, and even his honour, to extenuate here. Sir Wm. D'Oily and myself have near 10,000 upon our care, while there seems to be no care of us, who having lost all our servants, officers and most necessary assistants, have nothing more left us to expose but our persons, which are every moment at the mercy of a raging pestilence (by our daily conversation) and an unreasonable multitude, if such they may be called, who having adventured their lives for the public, perish for their reward, and die like dogs in the street unregarded.' 'Our prisoners beg at us as a mercy to knock them. on the head, for we have no bread to relieve the dying creatures.I beseech your honour, let us not be reputed barbarians, or if at last we must be so, let me not be the executor of so much inhumanity when the price of one good subject's life is rightly considered of more value than the wealth of the Indies.'-The mortality had now increased, and nearly 10,000 died weekly; yet his duty frequently obliged him to go through the whole city, a dismal passage,' he says, and dangerous to see so many coffins exposed in the streets, the streets thin of people, the shops shut up, and all in mournful silence, as not knowing whose turn might be next.'

When the pestilence was abated and he went to wait upon the king, Charles in a most gracious manner gave him his hand to kiss, with many thanks for his care and faithfulness in a time of such great danger, when every body fled their employments; he told me,' says Evelyn, 'he was much obliged to me, and said he was several times concerned for me and the peril I underwent, and did receive my service most acceptably, though in truth I did but my duty.' He now exerted himself to have an Infirmary founded for the sick and wounded, having seen the great inconvenience of distributing them in private houses, where many more chirurgeons and attendants were necessary, and the people tempted to debauchery.' The fire of London, which occurred at this time, has never been so finely described as in Mr. Evelyn's journal. The account of so tremendous an event, written at the time and upon the spot, will be read with great interest.

*1666. 2 Sept. This fatal night about ten began that deplorable fire near Fish Streete in London.

'3. The fire continuing, after dinner I took coach with my wife and sonn and went to the Bank side in Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole Citty in dreadful flames near ye water side; all the houses from the Bridge, all Thames Street, and upwards towards Cheapeside downe to the Three Cranes were now consum'd.

The fire having continu'd all this night (if I may call that night which was light as day for 10 miles round about, after a dreadful manner) when conspiring with a fierce Eastern wind in a very drie season; I went on foote to the same place, and saw the whole South part of ye Citty burning from Cheapeside to ye Thames, and all along Cornehill (for it kindl'd back against ye wind as well as forward) Tower Streete, Fenchurch Streete, Gracious Streete, and so along to Bainard's Castle, and was now taking hold of St. Paule's Church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonish'd, that from the beginning, I know not by what despondency or fate, they hardly stirr❜d to quench it, so that there was nothing heard or seene but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures, without at all attempting to save even their goods, such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned both in breadth and length, the Churches, Publiq Halls, Exchange, Hospitals, Monuments, and ornaments, leaping after a prodigious manner from house to house and streete to streete, at greate distances one from ye other, for ye heate with a long set of faire and warme weather had even ignited the air and prepar'd the materials to conceive the fire, which devour'd after an incredible manner, houses, furniture, and every thing. Here we saw the Thames cover'd with goods floating, all the barges and boates laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on ye other, ye carts, &c. carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strew'd with moveables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as haply the world had not seene the like since the foundation of it, nor be outdone till the universal conflagration. All the skie was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, the light seene above 40 miles round about for many nights. God grant my eyes may never behold the like, now seeing above 10,000 houses all in one flame: the noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, ye shreiking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of Towers, Houses and Churches was like an hideous storme, and the aire all about so hot and inflam'd that at last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forc'd to stand still and let ye flames burn on, wch they did for neere two miles in length and one in bredth. The clouds of smoke were disinall and reach'd upon computation neer 50 miles in length. Thus I left it this afternoone burning, a resemblance of Sodom, or the last day. London was, but is no more!

4. The burning still rages, and it was now gotten as far as the Inner Temple, all Fleete Streete, the Old Bailey, Ludgate Hill, War

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wick