"The accepted spelling of the name 'Pepys' was adopted generally
     about the end of the seventeenth century, though it occurs many
     years before that time.  There have been numerous ways of
     pronouncing the name, as 'Peps,' 'Peeps,' and 'Peppis.'  The
     Diarist undoubtedly pronounced it 'Peeps,' and the lineal
     descendants of his sister Paulina, the family of 'Pepys Cockerell'
     pronounce it so to this day.  The other branches of the family all
     pronounce it as 'Peppis,' and I am led to be satisfied that the
     latter pronunciation is correct by the two facts that in the
     earliest known writing it is spelt 'Pepis,' and that the French form
     of the name is 'Pepy.'"

The most probable explanation is that the name in the seventeenth century was either pronounced 'Pips' or 'Papes'; for both the forms 'ea' and 'ey' would represent the latter pronunciation. The general change in the pronunciation of the spelling 'ea' from 'ai' to 'ee' took place in a large number of words at the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth-century, and three words at least (yea, break, and great) keep this old pronunciation still. The present Irish pronunciation of English is really the same as the English pronunciation of the seventeenth century, when the most extensive settlement of Englishmen in Ireland took place, and the Irish always pronounce ea like ai (as, He gave him a nate bating—neat beating). Again, the 'ey' of Peyps would rhyme with they and obey. English literature is full of illustrations of the old pronunciation of ea, as in "Hudibras;"

              "Doubtless the pleasure is as great
               In being cheated as to cheat,"

which was then a perfect rhyme. In the "Rape of the Lock" tea (tay) rhymes with obey, and in Cowper's verses on Alexander Selkirk sea rhymes with survey.' It is not likely that the pronunciation of the name was fixed, but there is every reason to suppose that the spellings of Peyps and Peaps were intended to represent the sound Pepes rather than Peeps.

In spite of all the research which has brought to light so many incidents of interest in the life of Samuel Pepys, we cannot but feel how dry these facts are when placed by the side of the living details of the Diary. It is in its pages that the true man is displayed, and it has therefore not been thought necessary here to do more than set down in chronological order such facts as are known of the life outside the Diary. A fuller "appreciation" of the man must be left for some future occasion.

                                   H. B. W.




JANUARY 1659-1660

     [The year did not legally begin in England before the 25th March
     until the act for altering the style fixed the 1st of January as the
     first day of the year, and previous to 1752 the year extended from
     March 25th to the following March 24th.  Thus since 1752 we have
     been in the habit of putting the two dates for the months of January
     and February and March 1 to 24—in all years previous to 1752.
     Practically, however, many persons considered the year to commence
     with January 1st, as it will be seen Pepys did.  The 1st of January
     was considered as New Year's day long before Pepys's time.  The
     fiscal year has not been altered; and the national accounts are
     still reckoned from old Lady Day, which falls on the 6th of April.]





Blessed be God, at the end of the last year I was in very good health, without any sense of my old pain, but upon taking of cold.

     [Pepys was successfully cut for the stone on March 26th, 1658.  See
     March 26th below.  Although not suffering from this cause again
     until the end of his life, there are frequent references in the
     Diary to pain whenever he caught cold.  In a letter from Pepys to
     his nephew Jackson, April 8th, 1700, there is a reference to the
     breaking out three years before his death of the wound caused by the
     cutting for the stone: "It has been my calamity for much the
     greatest part of this time to have been kept bedrid, under an evil
     so rarely known as to have had it matter of universal surprise and
     with little less general opinion of its dangerousness; namely, that
     the cicatrice of a wound occasioned upon my cutting for the stone,
     without hearing anything of it in all this time, should after more
     than 40 years' perfect cure, break out again."  At the post-mortem
     examination a nest of seven stones, weighing four and a half ounces,
     was found in the left kidney, which was entirely ulcerated.]

I lived in Axe Yard,

     [Pepys's house was on the south side of King Street, Westminster;
     it is singular that when he removed to a residence in the city, he
     should have settled close to another Axe Yard.  Fludyer Street
     stands on the site of Axe Yard, which derived its name from a great
     messuage or brewhouse on the west side of King Street, called "The
     Axe," and referred to in a document of the 23rd of Henry VIII—B.]

having my wife, and servant Jane, and no more in family than us three. My wife.... gave me hopes of her being with child, but on the last day of the year....[the hope was belied.]

[Ed. note:.... are used to denote censored passages]

The condition of the State was thus; viz. the Rump, after being disturbed by my Lord Lambert,

     [John Lambert, major-general in the Parliamentary army.  The title
     Lord was not his by right, but it was frequently given to the
     republican officers.  He was born in 1619, at Calton Hall, in the
     parish of Kirkby-in-Malham-Dale, in the West Riding of Yorkshire.
     In 1642 he was appointed captain of horse under Fairfax, and acted
     as major-general to Cromwell in 1650 during the war in Scotland.
     After this Parliament conferred on him a grant of lands in Scotland
     worth L1000 per annum.  He refused to take the oath of allegiance to
     Cromwell, for which the Protector deprived him of his commission.
     After Cromwell's death he tried to set up a military government.
     The Commons cashiered Lambert, Desborough, and other officers,
     October 12th, 1659, but Lambert retaliated by thrusting out the
     Commons, and set out to meet Monk.  His men fell away from him, and
     he was sent to the Tower, March 3rd, 1660, but escaped.  In 1662 he
     was tried on a charge of high treason and condemned, but his life
     was spared.  It is generally stated that he passed the remainder of
     his life in the island of Guernsey, but this is proved to be
     incorrect by a MS. in the Plymouth Athenaeum, entitled "Plimmouth
     Memoirs collected by James Yonge, 1684" This will be seen from the
     following extracts quoted by Mr. R. J. King, in "Notes and Queries,"
     "1667 Lambert the arch-rebel brought to this island [St. Nicholas,
     at the entrance of Plymouth harbour]."  "1683 Easter day Lambert
     that olde rebell dyed this winter on Plimmouth Island where he had
     been prisoner 15 years and more."]

was lately returned to sit again. The officers of the Army all forced to yield. Lawson

     [Sir John Lawson, the son of a poor man at Hull, entered the navy as
     a common sailor, rose to the rank of admiral, and distinguished
     himself during the Protectorate.  Though a republican, he readily
     closed with the design of restoring the King.  He was vice-admiral
     under the Earl of Sandwich, and commanded the "London" in the
     squadron which conveyed Charles II. to England.  He was mortally
     wounded in the action with the Dutch off Harwich, June, 1665.  He
     must not be confounded with another John Lawson, the Royalist, of
     Brough Hall, in Yorkshire, who was created a Baronet by Charles II,
     July 6th, 1665.]

lies still in the river, and Monk—[George Monk, born 1608, created Duke of Albemarle, 1660, married Ann Clarges, March, 1654, died January 3rd, 1676.]—is with his army in Scotland. Only my Lord Lambert is not yet come into the Parliament, nor is it expected that he will without being forced to it. The new Common Council of the City do speak very high; and had sent to Monk their sword-bearer, to acquaint him with their desires for a free and full Parliament, which is at present the desires, and the hopes, and expectation of all. Twenty-two of the old secluded members

     ["The City sent and invited him [Monk] to dine the next day at
     Guildhall, and there he declared for the members whom the army had
     forced away in year forty-seven and forty-eight, who were known by
     the names of secluded members."—Burnet's Hist. of his Own Time,
     book i.]

having been at the House-door the last week to demand entrance, but it was denied them; and it is believed that [neither] they nor the people will be satisfied till the House be filled. My own private condition very handsome, and esteemed rich, but indeed very poor; besides my goods of my house, and my office, which at present is somewhat uncertain. Mr. Downing master of my office.

     [George Downing was one of the Four Tellers of the Receipt of the
     Exchequer, and in his office Pepys was a clerk.  He was the son of
     Emmanuel Downing of the Inner Temple, afterwards of Salem,
     Massachusetts, and of Lucy, sister of Governor John Winthrop.  He is
     supposed to have been born in August, 1623.  He and his parents went
     to New England in 1638, and he was the second graduate of Harvard
     College.  He returned to England about 1645, and acted as Colonel
     Okey's chaplain before he entered into political life.  Anthony a
     Wood (who incorrectly describes him as the son of Dr. Calybute
     Downing, vicar of Hackney) calls Downing a sider with all times and
     changes: skilled in the common cant, and a preacher occasionally.
     He was sent by Cromwell to Holland in 1657, as resident there.  At
     the Restoration, he espoused the King's cause, and was knighted and
     elected M.P. for Morpeth, in 1661.  Afterwards, becoming
     Secretary to the Treasury and Commissioner of the Customs, he was in
     1663 created a Baronet of East Hatley, in Cambridgeshire, and was
     again sent Ambassador to Holland.  His grandson of the same name,
     who died in 1749, was the founder of Downing College, Cambridge.
     The title became extinct in 1764, upon the decease of Sir John
     Gerrard Downing, the last heir-male of the family.  Sir George
     Downing's character will be found in Lord Clarendon's "Life," vol.
     iii.  p. 4.  Pepys's opinion seems to be somewhat of a mixed kind.
     He died in July, 1684.]

Jan. 1st (Lord's day). This morning (we living lately in the garret,) I rose, put on my suit with great skirts, having not lately worn any other, clothes but them. Went to Mr. Gunning's

     [Peter Gunning, afterwards Master of St. John's College, Cambridge,
     and successively Bishop of Chichester and Ely.  He had continued to
     read the Liturgy at the chapel at Exeter House when the Parliament
     was most predominant, for which Cromwell often rebuked him.  Evelyn
     relates that on Christmas Day, 1657, the chapel was surrounded with
     soldiers, and the congregation taken prisoners, he and his wife
     being among them.  There are several notices of Dr. Gunning in
     Evelyn's Diary.  When he obtained the mastership of St. John's
     College upon the ejection of Dr. Tuckney, he allowed that
     Nonconformist divine a handsome annuity during his life.  He was a
     great controversialist, and a man of great reading.  Burnet says he
     "was a very honest sincere man, but of no sound judgment, and of no
     prudence in affairs" ("Hist. of his Own.  Time").  He died July 6th,
     1684, aged seventy-one.]

chapel at Exeter House, where he made a very good sermon upon these words:—"That in the fulness of time God sent his Son, made of a woman," &c.; showing, that, by "made under the law," is meant his circumcision, which is solemnized this day. Dined at home in the garret, where my wife dressed the remains of a turkey, and in the doing of it she burned her hand. I staid at home all the afternoon, looking over my accounts; then went with my wife to my father's, and in going observed the great posts which the City have set up at the Conduit in Fleet-street. Supt at my father's, where in came Mrs. The. Turner—[Theophila Turner, daughter of Sergeant John and Jane Turner, who married Sir Arthur Harris, Bart. She died 1686.]—and Madam Morrice, and supt with us. After that my wife and I went home with them, and so to our own home.

2nd. In the morning before I went forth old East brought me a dozen of bottles of sack, and I gave him a shilling for his pains. Then I went to Mr. Sheply,—[Shepley was a servant of Admiral Sir Edward Montagu]—who was drawing of sack in the wine cellar to send to other places as a gift from my Lord, and told me that my Lord had given him order to give me the dozen of bottles. Thence I went to the Temple to speak with Mr. Calthropp about the L60 due to my Lord,

     [Sir Edward Montagu, born 1625, son of Sir Sidney Montagu, by
     Paulina, daughter of John Pepys of Cottenham, married Jemima,
     daughter of John Crew of Stene.  He died in action against the Dutch
     in Southwold Bay, May 28th, 1672.  The title of "My Lord" here
     applied to Montagu before he was created Earl of Sandwich is of the
     same character as that given to General Lambert.]

but missed of him, he being abroad. Then I went to Mr. Crew's

     [John Crew, born 1598, eldest son of Sir Thomas Crew, Sergeant-at-
     Law and Speaker of the House of Commons.  He sat for Brackley in the
     Long Parliament.  Created Baron Crew of Stene, in the county of
     Northampton, at the coronation of Charles II.  He married Jemima,
     daughter and co-heir of Edward Walgrave (or Waldegrave) of Lawford,
     Essex.  His house was in Lincoln's Inn Fields.  He died December
     12th, 1679.]

and borrowed L10 of Mr. Andrewes for my own use, and so went to my office, where there was nothing to do. Then I walked a great while in Westminster Hall, where I heard that Lambert was coming up to London; that my Lord Fairfax

     [Thomas, Lord Fairfax, Generalissimo of the Parliament forces.
     After the Restoration, he retired to his country seat, where he
     lived in private till his death, 1671.  In a volume (autograph) of
     Lord Fairfax's Poems, preserved in the British Museum, 11744, f. 42,
     the following lines occur upon the 30th of January, on which day the
     King was beheaded.  It is believed that they have never been
     printed.

              "O let that day from time be bloted quitt,
               And beleef of 't in next age be waved,
               In depest silence that act concealed might,
               That so the creadet of our nation might be saved;
               But if the powre devine hath ordered this,
               His will's the law, and our must aquiess."

     These wretched verses have obviously no merit; but they are curious
     as showing that Fairfax, who had refused to act as one of Charles
     I's judges; continued long afterwards to entertain a proper horror
     for that unfortunate monarch's fate.  It has recently been pointed
     out to me, that the lines were not originally composed by Fairfax,
     being only a poor translation of the spirited lines of Statius
     (Sylvarum lib. v.  cap. ii.  l. 88)

              "Excidat illa dies aevo, ne postera credant
               Secula, nos certe taceamus; et obruta multa
               Nocte tegi propria patiamur crimina gentis."

     These verses were first applied by the President de Thou to the
     massacre of St. Bartholomew, 1572; and in our day, by Mr. Pitt, in
     his memorable speech in the House of Commons, January, 1793, after
     the murder of Louis XVI.—B.]

was in the head of the Irish brigade, but it was not certain what he would declare for. The House was to-day upon finishing the act for the Council of State, which they did; and for the indemnity to the soldiers; and were to sit again thereupon in the afternoon. Great talk that many places have declared for a free Parliament; and it is believed that they will be forced to fill up the House with the old members. From the Hall I called at home, and so went to Mr. Crew's (my wife she was to go to her father's), thinking to have dined, but I came too late, so Mr. Moore and I and another gentleman went out and drank a cup of ale together in the new market, and there I eat some bread and cheese for my dinner. After that Mr. Moore and I went as far as Fleet-street together and parted, he going into the City, I to find Mr. Calthrop, but failed again of finding him, so returned to Mr. Crew's again, and from thence went along with Mrs. Jemimah

     [Mrs. Jemimah, or Mrs. Jem, was Jemima, eldest daughter of Sir
     Edward Montagu.  At this time she and her sister, Mrs. Ann, seem to
     have been living alone with their maids in London, and Pepys's duty
     was to look after them.]

home, and there she taught me how to play at cribbage. Then I went home, and finding my wife gone to see Mrs. Hunt, I went to Will's,

     [Pepys constantly visited "Will's" about this time; but this could
     not be the famous coffee-house in Covent Garden, because he mentions
     visiting there for the first time, February 3rd, 1663-64.  It was
     most probably the house of William Joyce, who kept a place of
     entertainment at Westminster (see Jan. 29th).]

and there sat with Mr. Ashwell talking and singing till nine o'clock, and so home, there, having not eaten anything but bread and cheese, my wife cut me a slice of brawn which. I received from my Lady;—[Jemima, wife of Sir Edward Montagu, daughter of John Crew of Stene, afterwards Lord Crew.]—which proves as good as ever I had any. So to bed, and my wife had a very bad night of it through wind and cold.

3rd. I went out in the morning, it being a great frost, and walked to Mrs. Turner's

     [Jane, daughter of John Pepys of South Creake, Norfolk, married to
     John Turner, Sergeant-at-law, Recorder of York; their only child,
     Theophila, frequently mentioned as The.  or Theoph., became the wife
     of Sir Arthur Harris, Bart., of Stowford, Devon, and died 1686,
     s.p.]

to stop her from coming to see me to-day, because of Mrs. Jem's corning, thence I went to the Temple to speak with Mr. Calthrop, and walked in his chamber an hour, but could not see him, so went to Westminster, where I found soldiers in my office to receive money, and paid it them. At noon went home, where Mrs. Jem, her maid, Mr. Sheply, Hawly, and Moore dined with me on a piece of beef and cabbage, and a collar of brawn. We then fell to cards till dark, and then I went home with Mrs. Jem, and meeting Mr. Hawly got him to bear me company to Chancery Lane, where I spoke with Mr. Calthrop, he told me that Sir James Calthrop was lately dead, but that he would write to his Lady, that the money may be speedily paid. Thence back to White Hall, where I understood that the Parliament had passed the act for indemnity to the soldiers and officers that would come in, in so many days, and that my Lord Lambert should have benefit of the said act. They had also voted that all vacancies in the House, by the death of any of the old members, shall be filled up; but those that are living shall not be called in. Thence I went home, and there found Mr. Hunt and his wife, and Mr. Hawly, who sat with me till ten at night at cards, and so broke up and to bed.

4th. Early came Mr. Vanly—[Mr Vanley appears to have been Pepys's landlord; he is mentioned again in the Diary on September 20th, 1660.]—to me for his half-year's rent, which I had not in the house, but took his man to the office and there paid him. Then I went down into the Hall and to Will's, where Hawly brought a piece of his Cheshire cheese, and we were merry with it. Then into the Hall again, where I met with the Clerk and Quarter Master of my Lord's troop, and took them to the Swan' and gave them their morning's draft,

     [It was not usual at this time to sit down to breakfast, but instead
     a morning draught was taken at a tavern.]

they being just come to town. Mr. Jenkins shewed me two bills of exchange for money to receive upon my Lord's and my pay. It snowed hard all this morning, and was very cold, and my nose was much swelled with cold. Strange the difference of men's talk! Some say that Lambert must of necessity yield up; others, that he is very strong, and that the Fifth-monarchy-men [will] stick to him, if he declares for a free Parliament. Chillington was sent yesterday to him with the vote of pardon and indemnity from the Parliament. From the Hall I came home, where I found letters from Hinchinbroke

     [Hinchinbroke was Sir Edward Montagu's seat, from which he
     afterwards took his second title.  Hinchinbroke House, so often
     mentioned in the Diary, stood about half a mile to the westward of
     the town of Huntingdon.  It was erected late in the reign of
     Elizabeth, by Sir Henry Cromwell, on the site of a Benedictine
     nunnery, granted at the Dissolution, with all its appurtenances, to
     his father, Richard Williams, who had assumed the name of Cromwell,
     and whose grandson, Sir Oliver, was the uncle and godfather of the
     Protector.  The knight, who was renowned for, his hospitality, had
     the honour of entertaining King James at Hinchinbroke, but, getting
     into pecuniary difficulties, was obliged to sell his estates, which
     were conveyed, July 28th, 1627, to Sir Sidney Montagu of Barnwell,
     father of the first Earl of Sandwich, in whose descendant they are
     still vested.  On the morning of the 22nd January, 1830, during the
     minority of the seventh Earl, Hinchinbroke was almost entirely
     destroyed by fire, but the pictures and furniture were mostly saved,
     and the house has been rebuilt in the Elizabethan style, and the
     interior greatly improved, under the direction of Edward Blore,
     Esq., R.A.—B.]

and news of Mr. Sheply's going thither the next week. I dined at home, and from thence went to Will's to Shaw, who promised me to go along with me to Atkinson's about some money, but I found him at cards with Spicer and D. Vines, and could not get him along with me. I was vext at this, and went and walked in the Hall, where I heard that the Parliament spent this day in fasting and prayer; and in the afternoon came letters from the North, that brought certain news that my Lord Lambent his forces were all forsaking him, and that he was left with only fifty horse, and that he did now declare for the Parliament himself; and that my Lord Fairfax did also rest satisfied, and had laid down his arms, and that what he had done was only to secure the country against my Lord Lambert his raising of money, and free quarter. I went to Will's again, where I found them still at cards, and Spicer had won 14s. of Shaw and Vines. Then I spent a little time with G. Vines and Maylard at Vines's at our viols.

     [It was usual to have a "chest of viols," which consisted of six,
     viz., two trebles, two tenors, and two basses (see note in North's
     "Memoirs of Musick," ed.  Rimbault, p. 70).  The bass viol was also
     called the 'viola da gamba', because it was held between the legs.]

So home, and from thence to Mr. Hunt's, and sat with them and Mr. Hawly at cards till ten at night, and was much made of by them. Home and so to bed, but much troubled with my nose, which was much swelled.

5th. I went to my office, where the money was again expected from the Excise office, but none brought, but was promised to be sent this afternoon. I dined with Mr. Sheply, at my Lord's lodgings, upon his turkey-pie. And so to my office again; where the Excise money was brought, and some of it told to soldiers till it was dark. Then I went home, and after writing a letter to my Lord and told him the news that the Parliament hath this night voted that the members that were discharged from sitting in the years 1648 and 49, were duly discharged; and that there should be writs issued presently for the calling of others in their places, and that Monk and Fairfax were commanded up to town, and that the Prince's lodgings were to be provided for Monk at Whitehall. Then my wife and I, it being a great frost, went to Mrs. Jem's, in expectation to eat a sack-posset, but Mr. Edward—[Edward Montage, son of Sir Edward, and afterwards Lord Hinchinbroke.]—not coming it was put off; and so I left my wife playing at cards with her, and went myself with my lanthorn to Mr. Fage, to consult concerning my nose, who told me it was nothing but cold, and after that we did discourse concerning public business; and he told me it is true the City had not time enough to do much, but they are resolved to shake off the soldiers; and that unless there be a free Parliament chosen, he did believe there are half the Common Council will not levy any money by order of this Parliament. From thence I went to my father's, where I found Mrs. Ramsey and her grandchild, a pretty girl, and staid a while and talked with them and my mother, and then took my leave, only heard of an invitation to go to dinner to-morrow to my cosen Thomas Pepys.—[Thomas Pepys, probably the son of Thomas Pepys of London (born, 1595), brother of Samuel's father, John Pepys.]—I went back to Mrs. Jem, and took my wife and Mrs. Sheply, and went home.

6th. This morning Mr. Sheply and I did eat our breakfast at Mrs. Harper's, (my brother John' being with me,)

     [John Pepys was born in 1641, and his brother Samuel took great
     interest in his welfare, but he did not do any great credit to his
     elder.]

upon a cold turkey-pie and a goose. From thence I went to my office, where we paid money to the soldiers till one o'clock, at which time we made an end, and I went home and took my wife and went to my cosen, Thomas Pepys, and found them just sat down to dinner, which was very good; only the venison pasty was palpable beef, which was not handsome. After dinner I took my leave, leaving my wife with my cozen Stradwick,—[Elizabeth, daughter of Richard Pepys, Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, and wife of Thomas Stradwick.]—and went to Westminster to Mr. Vines, where George and I fiddled a good while, Dick and his wife (who was lately brought to bed) and her sister being there, but Mr. Hudson not coming according to his promise, I went away, and calling at my house on the wench, I took her and the lanthorn with me to my cosen Stradwick, where, after a good supper, there being there my father, mother, brothers, and sister, my cosen Scott and his wife, Mr. Drawwater and his wife, and her brother, Mr. Stradwick, we had a brave cake brought us, and in the choosing, Pall was Queen and Mr. Stradwick was King. After that my wife and I bid adieu and came home, it being still a great frost.

7th. At my office as I was receiving money of the probate of wills, in came Mrs. Turner, Theoph., Madame Morrice, and Joyce, and after I had done I took them home to my house and Mr. Hawly came after, and I got a dish of steaks and a rabbit for them, while they were playing a game or two at cards. In the middle of our dinner a messenger from Mr. Downing came to fetch me to him, so leaving Mr. Hawly there, I went and was forced to stay till night in expectation of the French Embassador, who at last came, and I had a great deal of good discourse with one of his gentlemen concerning the reason of the difference between the zeal of the French and the Spaniard. After he was gone I went home, and found my friends still at cards, and after that I went along with them to Dr. Whores (sending my wife to Mrs. Jem's to a sack-posset), where I heard some symphony and songs of his own making, performed by Mr. May, Harding, and Mallard. Afterwards I put my friends into a coach, and went to Mrs. Jem's, where I wrote a letter to my Lord by the post, and had my part of the posset which was saved for me, and so we went home, and put in at my Lord's lodgings, where we staid late, eating of part of his turkey-pie, and reading of Quarles' Emblems. So home and to bed.

8th (Sunday). In the morning I went to Mr. Gunning's, where a good sermon, wherein he showed the life of Christ, and told us good authority for us to believe that Christ did follow his father's trade, and was a carpenter till thirty years of age. From thence to my father's to dinner, where I found my wife, who was forced to dine there, we not having one coal of fire in the house, and it being very hard frosty weather. In the afternoon my father, he going to a man's to demand some money due to my Aunt Bells my wife and I went to Mr. Mossum's, where a strange doctor made a very good sermon. From thence sending my wife to my father's, I went to Mrs. Turner's, and staid a little while, and then to my father's, where I found Mr. Sheply, and after supper went home together. Here I heard of the death of Mr. Palmer, and that he was to be buried at Westminster tomorrow.

9th. For these two or three days I have been much troubled with thoughts how to get money to pay them that I have borrowed money of, by reason of my money being in my uncle's hands. I rose early this morning, and looked over and corrected my brother John's speech, which he is to make the next apposition,—[Declamations at St. Paul's School, in which there were opponents and respondents.]—and after that I went towards my office, and in my way met with W. Simons, Muddiman, and Jack Price, and went with them to Harper's and in many sorts of talk I staid till two of the clock in the afternoon. I found Muddiman a good scholar, an arch rogue; and owns that though he writes new books for the Parliament, yet he did declare that he did it only to get money; and did talk very basely of many of them. Among other things, W. Simons told me how his uncle Scobel was on Saturday last called to the bar, for entering in the journal of the House, for the year 1653, these words: "This day his Excellence the Lord General Cromwell dissolved this House;" which words the Parliament voted a forgery, and demanded of him how they came to be entered. He answered that they were his own handwriting, and that he did it by virtue of his office, and the practice of his predecessor; and that the intent of the practice was to—let posterity know how such and such a Parliament was dissolved, whether by the command of the King, or by their own neglect, as the last House of Lords was; and that to this end, he had said and writ that it was dissolved by his Excellence the Lord G[eneral]; and that for the word dissolved, he never at the time did hear of any other term; and desired pardon if he would not dare to make a word himself when it was six years after, before they came themselves to call it an interruption; but they were so little satisfied with this answer, that they did chuse a committee to report to the House, whether this crime of Mr. Scobell's did come within the act of indemnity or no. Thence I went with Muddiman to the Coffee-House, and gave 18d. to be entered of the Club. Thence into the Hall, where I heard for certain that Monk was coming to London, and that Bradshaw's 2 lodgings were preparing for him. Thence to Mrs. Jem's, and found her in bed, and she was afraid that it would prove the small-pox. Thence back to Westminster Hall, where I heard how Sir H. Vane—[Sir Harry Vane the younger, an inflexible republican. He was executed in 1662, on a charge of conspiring the death of Charles I.]—was this day voted out of the House, and to sit no more there; and that he would retire himself to his house at Raby, as also all the rest of the nine officers that had their commissions formerly taken away from them, were commanded to their farthest houses from London during the pleasure of the Parliament. Here I met with the Quarter Master of my Lord's troop, and his clerk Mr. Jenings, and took them home, and gave them a bottle of wine, and the remainder of my collar of brawn; and so good night. After that came in Mr. Hawly, who told me that I was mist this day at my office, and that to-morrow I must pay all the money that I have, at which I was put to a great loss how I should get money to make up my cash, and so went to bed in great trouble.

10th. Went out early, and in my way met with Greatorex,—[Ralph Greatorex, the well-known mathematical instrument maker of his day. He is frequently mentioned by Pepys.]—and at an alehouse he showed me the first sphere of wire that ever he made, and indeed it was very pleasant; thence to Mr. Crew's, and borrowed L10, and so to my office, and was able to pay my money. Thence into the Hall, and meeting the Quarter Master, Jenings, and Captain Rider, we four went to a cook's to dinner. Thence Jenings and I into London (it being through heat of the sun a great thaw and dirty) to show our bills of return, and coming back drank a pint of wine at the Star in Cheapside. So to Westminster, overtaking Captain Okeshott in his silk cloak, whose sword got hold of many people in walking. Thence to the Coffee-house, where were a great confluence of gentlemen; viz. Mr. Harrington, Poultny, chairman, Gold, Dr. Petty; &c., where admirable discourse till at night. Thence with Doling to Mother Lams, who told me how this day Scott

     [Thomas Scott, M.P., was made Secretary of State to the Commonwealth
     on the 17th of this same January.  He signed the death warrant of
     Charles I., for which he was executed at Charing Cross, October
     16th, 1660.  He gloried in his offence, and desired to have written
     on his tombstone, "Thomas Scott who adjudged to death the late
     king."]

was made Intelligencer, and that the rest of the members that were objected against last night, their business was to be heard this day se'nnight. Thence I went home and wrote a letter, and went to Harper's, and staid there till Tom carried it to the postboy at Whitehall. So home to bed.

11th. Being at Will's with Captain Barker, who hath paid me L300 this morning at my office, in comes my father, and with him I walked, and leave him at W. Joyce's, and went myself to Mr. Crew's, but came too late to dine, and therefore after a game at shittle-cocks—[The game of battledore and shuttlecock was formerly much played even in tennis courts, and was a very violent game.]—with Mr. Walgrave and Mr. Edward, I returned to my father, and taking him from W. Joyce's, who was not abroad himself, we inquired of a porter, and by his direction went to an alehouse, where after a cup or two we parted. I went towards London, and in my way went in to see Crowly, who was now grown a very great loon and very tame. Thence to Mr. Steven's with a pair of silver snuffers, and bought a pair of shears to cut silver, and so homeward again. From home I went to see Mrs. Jem, who was in bed, and now granted to have the small-pox. Back again, and went to the Coffee-house, but tarried not, and so home.

12th. I drink my morning at Harper's with Mr. Sheply and a seaman, and so to my office, where Captain Holland came to see me, and appointed a meeting in the afternoon. Then wrote letters to Hinchinbroke and sealed them at Will's, and after that went home, and thence to the Half Moon, where I found the Captain and Mr. Billingsly and Newman, a barber, where we were very merry, and had the young man that plays so well on the Welsh harp. Billingsly paid for all. Thence home, and finding my letters this day not gone by the carrier I new sealed them, but my brother Tom coming we fell into discourse about my intention to feast the Joyces. I sent for a bit of meat for him from the cook's, and forgot to send my letters this night. So I went to bed, and in discourse broke to my wife what my thoughts were concerning my design of getting money by, &c.

13th. Coming in the morning to my office, I met with Mr. Fage and took him to the Swan? He told me how high Haselrigge, and Morly, the last night began at my Lord Mayor's to exclaim against the City of London, saying that they had forfeited their charter. And how the Chamberlain of the City did take them down, letting them know how much they were formerly beholding to the City, &c. He also told me that Monk's letter that came to them by the sword-bearer was a cunning piece, and that which they did not much trust to; but they were resolved to make no more applications to the Parliament, nor to pay any money, unless the secluded members be brought in, or a free Parliament chosen. Thence to my office, where nothing to do. So to Will's with Mr. Pinkney, who invited me to their feast at his Hall the next Monday. Thence I went home and took my wife and dined at Mr. Wades, and after that we went and visited Catan. From thence home again, and my wife was very unwilling to let me go forth, but with some discontent would go out if I did, and I going forth towards Whitehall, I saw she followed me, and so I staid and took her round through Whitehall, and so carried her home angry. Thence I went to Mrs. Jem, and found her up and merry, and that it did not prove the small-pox, but only the swine-pox; so I played a game or two at cards with her. And so to Mr. Vines, where he and I and Mr. Hudson played half-a-dozen things, there being there Dick's wife and her sister. After that I went home and found my wife gone abroad to Mr. Hunt's, and came in a little after me.—So to bed.

14th. Nothing to do at our office. Thence into the Hall, and just as I was going to dinner from Westminster Hall with Mr. Moore (with whom I had been in the lobby to hear news, and had spoke with Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper about my Lord's lodgings) to his house, I met with Captain Holland, who told me that he hath brought his wife to my house, so I posted home and got a dish of meat for them. They staid with me all the afternoon, and went hence in the evening. Then I went with my wife, and left her at market, and went myself to the Coffee-house, and heard exceeding good argument against Mr. Harrington's assertion, that overbalance of propriety [i.e., property] was the foundation of government. Home, and wrote to Hinchinbroke, and sent that and my other letter that missed of going on Thursday last. So to bed.

15th. Having been exceedingly disturbed in the night with the barking of a dog of one of our neighbours that I could not sleep for an hour or two, I slept late, and then in the morning took physic, and so staid within all day. At noon my brother John came to me, and I corrected as well as I could his Greek speech to say the Apposition, though I believe he himself was as well able to do it as myself. After that we went to read in the great Officiale about the blessing of bells in the Church of Rome. After that my wife and I in pleasant discourse till night, then I went to supper, and after that to make an end of this week's notes in this book, and so to bed. It being a cold day and a great snow my physic did not work so well as it should have done.

16th. In the morning I went up to Mr. Crew's, and at his bedside he gave me direction to go to-morrow with Mr. Edward to Twickenham, and likewise did talk to me concerning things of state; and expressed his mind how just it was that the secluded members should come to sit again. I went from thence, and in my way went into an alehouse and drank my morning draft with Matthew Andrews and two or three more of his friends, coachmen. And of one of them I did hire a coach to carry us to-morrow to Twickenham. From thence to my office, where nothing to do; but Mr. Downing he came and found me all alone; and did mention to me his going back into Holland, and did ask me whether I would go or no, but gave me little encouragement, but bid me consider of it; and asked me whether I did not think that Mr. Hawly could perform the work of my office alone or no. I confess I was at a great loss, all the day after, to bethink myself how to carry this business. At noon, Harry Ethall came to me and went along with Mr. Maylard by coach as far as Salsbury Court, and there we set him down, and we went to the Clerks, where we came a little too late, but in a closet we had a very good dinner by Mr. Pinkny's courtesy, and after dinner we had pretty good singing, and one, Hazard, sung alone after the old fashion, which was very much cried up, but I did not like it. Thence we went to the Green Dragon, on Lambeth Hill, both the Mr. Pinkney's, Smith, Harrison, Morrice, that sang the bass, Sheply and I, and there we sang of all sorts of things, and I ventured with good success upon things at first sight, and after that I played on my flageolet, and staid there till nine o'clock, very merry and drawn on with one song after another till it came to be so late. After that Sheply, Harrison and myself, we went towards Westminster on foot, and at the Golden Lion, near Charing Cross, we went in and drank a pint of wine, and so parted, and thence home, where I found my wife and maid a-washing. I staid up till the bell-man came by with his bell just under my window as I was writing of this very line, and cried, "Past one of the clock, and a cold, frosty, windy morning." I then went to bed, and left my wife and the maid a-washing still.

17th. Early I went to Mr. Crew's, and having given Mr. Edward money to give the servants, I took him into the coach that waited for us and carried him to my house, where the coach waited for me while I and the child went to Westminster Hall, and bought him some pictures. In the Hall I met Mr. Woodfine, and took him to Will's and drank with him. Thence the child and I to the coach, where my wife was ready, and so we went towards Twickenham. In our way, at Kensington we understood how that my Lord Chesterfield had killed another gentleman about half an hour before, and was fled.

     [Philip Stanhope, second Earl of Chesterfield, ob. 1713, act. suae
     80.  We learn, from the memoir prefixed to his "Printed
     Correspondence," that he fought three duels, disarming and wounding
     his first and second antagonists, and killing the third.  The name
     of the unfortunate gentleman who fell on this occasion was Woolly.
     Lord Chesterfield, absconding, went to Breda, where he obtained the
     royal pardon from Charles II.  He acted a busy part in the eventful
     times in which he lived, and was remarkable for his steady adherence
     to the Stuarts.  Lord Chesterfield's letter to Charles II., and the
     King's answer granting the royal pardon, occur in the Correspondence
     published by General Sir John Murray, in 1829.

     "Jan. 17th, 1659.  The Earl of Chesterfield and Dr. Woolly's son of
     Hammersmith, had a quarrel about a mare of eighteen pounds price;
     the quarrel would not be reconciled, insomuch that a challenge
     passed between them.  They fought a duel on the backside of Mr.
     Colby's house at Kensington, where the Earl and he had several
     passes.  The Earl wounded him in two places, and would fain have
     then ended, but the stubbornness and pride of heart of Mr. Woolly
     would not give over, and the next pass [he] was killed on the spot.
     The Earl fled to Chelsea, and there took water and escaped.  The
     jury found it chance-medley."—Rugge's "Diurnal," Addit  MSS.,
     British Museum.—B.]

We went forward and came about one of the clock to Mr. Fuller's, but he was out of town, so we had a dinner there, and I gave the child 40s. to give to the two ushers. After that we parted and went homewards, it being market day at Brainford [Brentford]. I set my wife down and went with the coach to Mr. Crew's, thinking to have spoke with Mr. Moore and Mrs. Jem, he having told me the reason of his melancholy was some unkindness from her after so great expressions of love, and how he had spoke to her friends and had their consent, and that he would desire me to take an occasion of speaking with her, but by no means not to heighten her discontent or distaste whatever it be, but to make it up if I can. But he being out of doors, I went away and went to see Mrs. Jem, who was now very well again, and after a game or two at cards, I left her. So I went to the Coffee Club, and heard very good discourse; it was in answer to Mr. Harrington's answer, who said that the state of the Roman government was not a settled government, and so it was no wonder that the balance of propriety [i.e., property] was in one hand, and the command in another, it being therefore always in a posture of war; but it was carried by ballot, that it was a steady government, though it is true by the voices it had been carried before that it was an unsteady government; so to-morrow it is to be proved by the opponents that the balance lay in one hand, and the government in another. Thence I went to Westminster, and met Shaw and Washington, who told me how this day Sydenham