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ties this world could present to him. And this, and angler and his disciple, whose genuine love of nature, many other like blessings, we enjoy daily. And for and moral and descriptive pages, have silently but most of them, because they be so common, most men powerfully influenced the taste and literature of forget to pay their praises ; but let not us, because it their native country. is a sacrifice so pleasing to Him that made that sun and us, and still protects us, and gives us flowers, and

JOHN EVELYN. showers, and stomachs, and meat, and content, and

Joun EVELYN (1620-1706), a gentleman of easy leisure to go a-fishing. Well, scholar, I have almost tired myself, and, I

di fortune, and the most amiable personal character, fear, more than almost tired you. But I now see Tottenham High Cross, and our short walk thither will put a period to my too long discourse, in which my meaning was, and is, to plant that in your mind with which I labour to possess my own soul-that is, a meek and thankful heart. And to that end I have showed you that riches without them (meekness and thankfulness) do not make any man happy. But let me tell you that riches with them remove many fears and cares. And therefore my advice is, that you endeavour to be honestly rich, or contentedly poor ; but be sure that your riches be justly got, or you spoil all ; for it is well said by Caussin, “ He that loses his conscience has nothing left that is worth keeping." Therefore be sure you look to that. And, in the next place, look to your health, and if you have it, praise God, and value it next to a good conscience ; for health is the second blessing that we mortals are capable of-a blessing that money cannot buy-and therefore value it, and be thankful for it. As for money (which may be said to be the third blessing), neglect it not ; but note, that there is no necessity of being rich; for I told you there be as many miseries beyond riches as on this side them; and if you have & competence, enjoy it with a meek, cheerful, thankful heart. I will tell you, scholar, I have heard a

John Evelyn. grave divine say that God has two dwellings, one in heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful heart; distinguished himself by several scientific works which Almighty God grant to me and to my honest written in a popular style. His Sylva, or a Discourse scholar! And so you are welcome to Tottenham High of Forest Trees, and the Propagation of Timber in his Cross..

Majesty's Dominions, published in 1664, was written Venator. Well, master, I thank you for all your in consequence of an application to the Royal Society good directions, but for none more than this last, of by the commissioners of the navy, who dreaded a thankfulness, which I hope I shall never forget.' scarcity of timber in the country. This work, aided

by the king's example, stimulated the landholders to To the fifth edition of the Complete Angler' was plant an immense number of oak trees, which, a added a second part by CHARLES COTTON, the poet, century after, proved of the greatest service to the | and translator of Montaigne. It consisted of in-nation in the construction of ships of war. Terra, structions how to angle for a trout or grayling in a a Discourse of the Earth, relating to the Culture and elear stream. Though the work was written in the Improvement of it, for Vegetation and the Propagation short space of ten days, Cotton, who had long been of Plants, appeared in 1675; and a treatise on medals familiar with fly-fishing, and was an adopted son is another production of the venerable author. There of Izaak Walton, produced a treatise valuable for has been printed, also, a volume of his Miscellanies, its technical knowledge and accuracy. Walton's including a treatise in praise of Public Employment form of conveying instruction in dialogues is also and an Active Life,' which he wrote in reply to Sir preserved, the author being Piscator Junior, and his George Mackenzie's Essay on Solitude.' Evelyn companion a traveller (Viator), who had paid a was one of the first in this country to treat gardenvisit to the romantic scenery of Derbyshire, nearing and planting scientifically ; and his grounds at wbich the residence of Cotton was situated.' This Sayes-Court, near Deptford, where he resided during traveller turns out to be the Venator of the first a great part of his life, attracted much admiration,

part, 'wholly addicted to the chase' till Mr Izaak on account of the number of foreign plants which | Walton taught him as good, a more quiet, innocent, he reared in them, and the fine order in which they and less dangerous diversion. The friends embrace; were kept. The czar, Peter, was tenant of that Piscator conducts his new associate to his 'beloved mansion after the removal of Evelyn to another river Dove,' extends to him the hospitalities of his estate; and the old man was mortified by the gross mansion, and next morning shows him his fishing manner in which his house and garden were abused house, inscribed Piscatoribus Sacrum,' with the by the Russian potentate and his retinue. It was

prettily contrived' cipher including the two first one of Peter's amusements to demolish a most letters of father Walton's name and those of his son glorious and impenetrable holly hedge,' by riding Cotton. A delicate clear river flowed about the through it on a wheelbarrow. house, which stood on a little peninsula, with a Evelyn, throughout the greater part of his life, bowling-green close by, and fair meadows and moun- kept a diary, in which he entered every remarkable tains in the neighbourhood. The ruins of this event in which he was in any way concerned. This building still remain, adding interest to the romantic was published in 1818 (two volumes quarto), and and beautiful scenery on the banks of the river proved to be a most valuable addition to our store Dove, and recalling the memory of the venerable l of historical materials respecting the latter half of

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the seventeenth century. Evelyn chronicles fami Thames, and all along Cornehill (for it kindl’d back liar as well as important circumstances; but he does against ye wind as well as forward), Tower Streete, it without loss of dignity, and everywhere preserves 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, monu-
ments, 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 everything. Here we saw the
Thames cover'd with goods floating, all the barges
and boates laden with what some had time and cou-
rage 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 nerer
behold the like, now seeing above 10,000 houses all
in one flame: the noise, and cracking, and thunder
of the impetuous flames, ye shrieking of women and

children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, House of Evelyn at Deptford.

and churches, was like an hideous storme, and the aire

all about so hot and inflam’d, that at last one was not the tone of an educated and reflecting man. It is able to approach it, so that they were forc'd to stand curious to read, in this work, of great men going still and let ye flames burn on, ich they did for neere after dinner to attend a council of state, or the busi- two miles in length and one in bredth. The clouds ness of their particular offices, or the bowling-green, of smoke were dismall, and reach'd upon computation or even the church ; of an hour's sermon being of neer 50 miles in length. Thus I left it this aftermoderate length; of ladies painting their faces being noone burning, a resemblance of Sodom or the last a novelty; or of their receiving visits from gentle- day. London was, but is no more! men whilst dressing, after having just risen out of 4th. The burning still rages, and it was now gotten bed; of the female attendant of a lady of fashion as far as the Inner Temple, all Fleete Streete, the Old travelling on a pillion behind one of the footmen, Bailey, Ludgate Hill, Warwick Lane, Newgate, Paul's and the footmen riding with swords. The impres-Chain, Watling Streete, now flaming, and most of it sion conveyed of the reign of Charles II. is, upon reduc'd to ashes; the stones of Paules flew like grathe whole, unexpected, leading to the conviction, that nados, yo mealting lead running downe the streetes in the dissoluteness of manners attributed to it affected a streame, and the very pavements glowing with fiery a narrower circle of society than is usually sup- rednesse, so as no horse nor man was able to tread on posed ; and that even in the court there were many them, and the demolition had stopp'd all the passages, bright exceptions from it. Of the following extracts so that no help could be applied. The eastern wind from the Diary, the first is given in the original still more impetuously drove the flames forward. Nospelling :

thing but ye Almighty power of God was able to stop

them, for vaine was ye help of man. [The Great Fire in London.]

5th. It crossed towards Whitehall: Oh the confu

sion there was then at that court! It pleased his 1666. 20 Sept. This fatal night about ten began Maty to command me among ye rest to looke after the that deplorable fire near Fish Streete in London. quenching of Fetter Lane end, to preserve if possible,

3d. The fire continuing, after dinner I took coach that part of Holborn, whilst the rest of ye gentlemen with my wife and sonn and went to the Bank side in tooke their several posts (for now they began to bestir Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, themselves, and not till now, who hitherto had stood the whole citty in dreadful flames near ye water side; as men intoxicated, with their hands acrosse), and all the houses from the Bridge, all Thames Street, began to consider that nothing was likely to put a and upwards towards Cheapeside, downe to the Three stop but the blowing up of so many houses, as might Cranes, were now consum'd.

make a wider gap than any had yet ben made by the The fire having continu'd all this night (if I may ordinary method of pulling them down with engines; call that night which was light as day for 10 miles this some stout seamen propos'd early enough to have round about, after a dreadful manner), when conspir-sav'd near ye whole citty, but this some tenacious and ing with a fierce eastern wind in a very drie season, avaritious men, aldermen, &c., would not permit, beI went on foote to the same place, and saw the whole cause their houses must have ben of the first. It was south part of ye citty burning from Cheapside to ye therefore now commanded to be practis'd, and my con


cern being particularly for the hospital of St Bartho-plate, &c., mealted; the exquisitely wrought Mercers | lomew, neere Smithfield, where I had many wounded Chapell, the sumptuous Exchange, ye august fabriq and sick men, made me the more diligent to promote of Christ Church, all ye rest of the Companies Halls, it, nor was my care for the Savoy lesse. It now pleas'd sumptuous buildings, arches, all in dust; the founGod, by abating the wind, and by the industrie of ye taines dried up and ruin'd, whilst the very waters repeople, infusing a new spirit into them, that the fury main'd boiling; the vorago's of subterranean cellars, of it began sensibly to abate about noone, so as it wells, and dungeons, formerly warehouses, still burncame no farther than ye Temple westward, nor than ing in stench and dark clouds of smoke, so that in 5 ye entrance of Smithfield north. But continu'd all or 6 miles, in traversing about, I did not see one load this day and night so impetuous towards Cripplegate of timber unconsum’d, nor many stones but what were and the Tower, as made us all despaire; it also broke calcin'd white as snow. The people who now walk'd out againe in the Temple, but the courage of the mul- about ye ruines appear'd like men in a dismal desart, || titude persisting, and many houses being blown up, or rather in some greate citty laid waste by a cruel such gaps and desolations were soone made, as with enemy; to which was added the stench that came the former three days' consumption, the back fire did from some poore creatures bodies, beds, &c. Sir Tho. not so vehemently urge upon the rest as formerly. Gressham's statute, tho' fallen from its nich in the There was yet no standing neere the burning and Royal Exchange, remain'd intire, when all those of glowing ruines by neere a furlong's space.

ye kings since ye Conquest were broken to pieces, also The coale and wood wharfes and magazines of oyle, the standard in Cornehill, and Q. Elizabeth's effigies, rosin, &c., did infinite mischeife, so as the invective with some armes on Ludgate, continued with but which a little before I had dedicated to his Maty, and little detriment, whilst the vast yron chaines of the publish'd, giving warning what might probably be the citty streetes, hinges, barrs, and gates of prisons, were issue of suffering those shops to be in the citty, was many of them mealted and reduc'd to cinders by look'd on as a prophecy.

ye vehement heate. I was not able to passe through The poore inhabitants were dispers’d about St any of the narrow streetes, but kept the widest ; the George's Fields, and Moorefields, as far as Highgate, ground and air, smoake and fiery vapour continu'd so and severall miles in circle, some under tents, some | intense, that my haire was almost sing'd, and my feete under miserable hutts and hovells, many without a unsufferably sur-heated. The bie lanes and narrower rag or any necessary utensills, bed or board, who, from streetes were quite fill'd up with rubbish, nor could delicatenesse, riches, and easy accommodations in one have knowne where he was, but by ye ruines of stately and well furnish'd houses, were now reduc'd some church or hall, that had some remarkable tower to extreamest misery and poverty.

or pinnacle remaining. I then went towards IslingIn this calamitous condition, I return'd with a sad ton and Highgate, where one might have seene 200,000 heart to my house, blessing and adoring the mercy of people of all ranks and degrees dispers’d and lying God to me and mine, who in the midst of all this along by their heapes of what they could save from ruine was like Lot, in my little Zoar, safe and sound. the fire, deploring their losse ; and tho' ready to perish

7th. I went this morning on foote fm Whitehall as for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one penny far as London Bridge, thro' the late Fleete Street, for relief, which to me appear'd a stranger sight than Ludgate Hill, by St Paules, Cheapeside, Exchange, any I had yet beheld. His Majesty and Council inBishopgate, Aldersgate, and out to Moorefields, thence deede tooke all imaginable care for their reliefe, by thro' Cornehill, &c., with extraordinary difficulty, proclamation for the country to come in and refresh clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish, and them with provisions. In ye midst of all this calafrequently mistaking where I was. The ground under mity and confusion, there was, I know not how, an my feete was so hot, that it even burnt the soles of alarme begun that the French and Dutch, with whom my shoes. In the meantime his Maty got to the Tower we were now in hostility, were not onely landed, but by water, to demolish ye houses about the graff, which even entering the citty. There was, in truth, some days being built intirely about it, had they taken fire and before, greate suspicion of those 2 nations joining; attack'd the White Tower where the magazine of and now, that they had ben the occasion of firing the powder lay, would undoubtedly not only have beaten towne. This report did so terrifie, that on a suddaine downe and destroy'd all ye bridge, but sunke and there was such an uproare and tumult, that they ran torne the vessells in ye river, and render'd ye demo- from their goods, and taking what weapons they could lition beyond all expression for several miles about come at, they could not be stopp'd from falling on the countrey.

some of those nations, whom they casualy met, with· At my return, I was infinitely concern'd to find that out sense or reason. The clamour and peril grew so goodly church St Paules, now a sad ruine, and that excessive, that it made the whole court amaz’d, and beautiful portico (for structure comparable to any they did with infinite paines and greate difficulty in Europe, as not long before repair'd by the king) reduce and appease the people, sending troops of now rent in pieces, flakes of vast stone split asunder, soldiers and guards to cause them to retire into and nothing remaining intire but the inscription in ye fields againe, where they were watch'd all this the architrave, showing by whom it was built, which night. I left them pretty quiet, and came home had not one letter of it defac’d. It was astonishing sufficiently weary and broken. Their spirits thus a to see what immense stones the heat had in a manner little calmed, and the affright abated, they now began calcin'd, so that all ye ornaments, columns, freezes, to repaire into ye suburbs about the citty, where such and projectures of massie Portland stone flew off, even as had friends or opportunity got shelter for the preto ye very roofe, where a sheet of lead covering a great sent, to which his Matys proclamation also invited space was totally mealted; the ruines of the vaulted them, roofe falling broke into St Faith's, which being filled with the magazines of bookes belonging to ye sta

[A Fortunate Courtier not Envied.] tioners, and carried thither for safety, they were all consum'd, burning for a weeke following. It is also Sept. 6 [1680).-I dined with Sir Stephen Fox, observable, that the lead over ye altar at ye east end now one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury. Was untouch'd, and among the divers monuments, the This gentleman came first a poor boy from the quire body of one bishop remaind intire. Thus lay in of Salisbury, then was taken notice of by Bishop ashes that most venerable church, one of the most Duppa, and afterwards waited on my Lord Percy antient pieces of early piety in ye Christian world, (brother to Algernon, Earl of Northumberland), who besides neere 100 more. The lead, yron worke, bells, I procured for him an inferior place amongst the clerks

of the kitchen and green cloth side, where he was which she arrived to that perfection, that of the schofound so humble, diligent, industrious, and prudent lars of those famous two masters, Signors Pietro and in his behaviour, that his majesty being in exile, and Bartholomeo, she was esteemed the best ; for the Mr Fox waiting, both the king and lords about him sweetness of her voice and management of it added frequently employed him about their affairs; trusted such an agreeableness to her countenance, without him both with receiving and paying the little money any constraint or concern, that when she sung, it was they had. Returning with his majesty to England, as charming to the eye as to the ear; this I rather after great wants and great sufferings, his majesty note, because it was a universal remark, and for found him so honest and industrious, and withal so which 60 many noble and judicious persons in music capable and ready, that being advanced from Clerk of desired to hear her, the last being at Lord Arundel the Kitchen to that of the Green Cloth, he procured of Wardour's. What shall I say, or rather not say, to be paymaster to the whole army; and by his dex-of the cheerfulness and agreeableness of her buterity and punctual dealing, he obtained such credit mour? Condescending to the meanest servant in the among the bankers, that he was in a short time able family, or others, she still kept up respect, without to borrow vast sums of them upon any exigence. The the least pride. She would often read to them, exacontinual turning thus of money, and the soldiers' mine, instruct, and pray with them if they were sick, moderate allowance to him for his keeping touch with so as she was exceedingly beloved of everybody. Piety them, did so enrich him, that he is believed to be was so prevalent an ingredient in her constitution (as worth at least £200,000, honestly gotten and unenvied, I may say), that even among equals and superiors, she which is next to a miracle. With all this, he con- no sooner became intimately acquainted, but she tinues as humble and ready to do a courtesy as ever would endeavour to improve them by insinuating he was. He is generous, and lives very honourably ; something of religious, and that tended to bring them of a sweet nature, well spoken, well bred, and is so to a love of devotion. She had one or two confidants, highly in his majesty's esteem, and so useful, that, with whom she used to pass whole days in fasting, being long since made a knight, he is also advanced reading, and prayers, especially before the monthly to be one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, communion and other solemn occasions. She abhorred and has the reversion of the Cofferer's place after | fattery, and though she had abundance of wit, the Harry Brounker. He has married his eldest daughter raillery was so innocent and ingenious, that it was to my Lord Cornwallis, and gave her £12,000, and most agreeable ; she sometimes would see a play, but, restored that entangled family besides. He matched since the stage grew licentious, expressed herself his eldest son to Mrs Trollope, who brings with her weary of them; and the time spent at the theatre was (besides a great sum) near, if not altogether, £2000 an unaccountable vanity. She never played at cards per annum. Sir Stephen's lady, an excellent woman, without extreme importunity, and for the company; is sister to Mr Whittle, one of the king's chirurgeons. but this was so very seldom, that I cannot number it In a word, never was man more fortunate than Sir among anything she could name a fault. No one Stephen ; he is a handsome person, virtuous, and very could read prose or verse better or with more judgreligious.*

ment; and, as she read, so she writ, not only most

correct orthography, [but] with that maturity of [Evelyn's Account of his Daughter Mary.+] judgment and exactness of the periods, choice of ex.

pressions, and familiarity of style, that some letters of March 10.-She received the blessed sacrament; hers have astonished me and others to whom she has after which, disposing herself to suffer what God

occasionally written. She had a talent of rehearsing should determine to inflict, she bore the remainder of

any comical part or poem, as, to them she might be her sickness with extraordinary patience and piety, decently free with, was more pleasing than heard on and more than ordinary resignation and blessed frame

the theatre. She danced with the greatest grace I of mind. She died the 14th, to our unspeakable sor have ever seen, and so would her master say, who was row and affliction; and not to ours only, but that of Monsieur Isaac: but she seldom showed that perfecall who knew her, who were many of the best quality, tion, save in gracefulness of her carriage, which was greatest and most virtuous persons. The justness of with an air of sprightly modesty not easily to be deher stature, person, comeliness of countenance, grace

scribed. Nothing affected, but natural and easy in fulness of motion, unaffected though more than ordi

her deportment as in her discourse, which was always narily beautiful, were the least of her ornaments, com

material, not trifling, and to which the extraordinary pared with those of her mind. Of early piety, singu sweetness of her tone, even in familiar speaking, vas larly religious, spending a part of every day in private | very charming. Nothing was so pretty as her descenddevotion, reading, and other virtuous exercises ; she ing to play with little children, whom she would caress had collected and written out many of the most use

and humour with great delight. But she was most ful and judicious periods of the books she read in a

affected to be with grave and sober men, of whom she kind of common-place, as out of Dr Hammond on

might learn something and improve herself. I have the New Testament, and most of the best practical been assisted by her in reading and praying by me; treatises. She had read and digested a considerable comprehensive of uncommon notions, curious of know. deal of history and of places (geography). The Frenching everything to some excess, had I not sometimes tongue was as familiar to her as English; she under-repressed it. Nothing was so delightful to her as to stood Italian, and was able to render a laudable

ble go into my study, where she would willingly have account of what she read and observed, to which as- I spent whole days, for, as I said, she had read abunsisted a most faithful memory and discernment; and dance of history, and all the best poets: even Terence, she did make very prudent and discreet reflections | Plautus, Homer, Virgil, Horace, Ovid; all the best upon what she had observed of the conversations romances and modern poems; she could compose among which she had at any time been, which being | happily, as in the Mundus Muliebris, wherein is an continually of persons of the best quality, she thereby enumeration of the immense variety of the modes and improved. She had an excellent voice, to which she ornaments belonging to her sex; but all these are vain played a thorough base on the harpsichord, in both trifles to the virtues that adorned her soul; she was * Sir Stephen Fox was the progenitor of the noble house

sincerely religious, most dutiful to her parents, whom of Holland, so remarkable for the line of distinguished states

she loved with an affection tempered with great men which it has given to England.

esteem, so as we were easy and free, and never were so † This young lady died of small-pox, March 1685, in her well pleased as when she was with us, nor needed me i twentieth year.

I other conversation. She was kind to her sisters, and

was still improving them by her constant course of as a porter bear it only, was not easily to be repiety. Oh dear, sweet, and desirable child! how solved. * shall I part with all this goodness and virtue without For my part, I profess that I delight in a cheerful the bitterness of sorrow and reluctancy of a tender gaiety, affect and cultivate variety. The universe itparent ? Thy affection, duty, and love to me, was that self were not beautiful to me without it; but as that of a friend as well as a child. Nor less dear to thy is in constant and uniform succession in the natural, inother, whose example and tender care of thee was un- where men do not disturb it, so would I have it also paralleled ; nor was thy return to her less conspicuous. in the artificial. If the kings of Mexico changed four Oh, how she mourns thy loss ! how desolate hast thou times a-day, it was but an upper vest, which they were left us ! to the grave shall we both carry thy memory. used to honour some meritorious servant with. Let

men change their habits as oft as they please, so the [Fashions in Dress.]

change be for the better. I would have a summer

habit and a winter; for the spring and for the autumn. [From Tyrannus, or the Mode.'*]

Something I would indulge to youth; something to 'Twas a witty expression of Malvezzi, I vestimenti

age and humour. But what have we to do with these negli animali sono molto sicuri segni della loro natura;

foreign butterflies? In God's name, let the change be negli huomini del lor ceruello garments (says he) our own, not borrowed of others; for why should I

I dance after a Monsieur's flageolet. that have a set of in animals are infallible signs of their nature ; in men, of their understanding. Though I would not

English viols for my concert? We need no French judge of the monk by the hood he wears, or celebrate

inventions for the stage, or for the back. the humour of Julian's court, where the philosophic mantle made all his officers appear like so many con

SIR ROGER L'ESTRANGE. jurors, 'tis worth the observing yet, that the people

Sir ROGER L'ESTRANGE (1616-1704) enjoyed, in of Roine left off the toga, an ancient and noble garment, with their power, and that the vicissitude of

& the reigns of Charles II. and James VII., great nototheir habit was little better than a presage of that of

riety as an occasional political writer. · During the their fortune ; for the military saga, differencing

rebellion he had fought as a royalist soldier : being them from their slaves, was no small indication of cap

ication captured by the parliamentary army, he was tried the declining of their courage, which shortly followed.

Hlu followed and condemned to die, and lay in prison almost four And I am of opinion that when once we shall see the ye

see the years, constantly expecting to be led forth to exeVenetian senate quit the gravity of their vests, the

cution. He wås at length set free, and lived in state itself will not long subsist without some con

almost total obscurity till the Restoration, when he siderable alteration. I am of opinion that the Swiss

was rewarded with the invidious post of licenser of had not been now a nation but for keeping to their

the press. From this time, till a few years before prodigious breeches. * *

his death, he was constantly occupied in the editing Be it excusable in the French to alter and impose the mode on others, 'tis no less a weakness and a shame in the rest of the world, who have no dependence on them, to admit them, at least to that degree of levity as to turn into all their shapes withont dis crimination; so as when the freak takes our Monsieurs to appear like so many farces or Jack Puddings on the stage, all the world should alter shape, and play the pantomimes with them.

Methinks a French tailor, with his ell in his hand, looks the enchantress Circe over the companions of Ulysses, and changes them into as many forms. One while we are made to be so loose in our clothes * and by and by appear like so many malefactors sewed up in sacks, as of old they were wont to treat a parricide, with a dog, an ape, and a serpent. Now, we are all twist, and at a distance look like a pair of tongs, and anon stuffed out behind like a Dutchman. This gallant goes so pinched in the waist, as if he were prepared for the question of the fiery plate in Turkey; and that so loose in the middle, as if he would turn insect, or drop in two; now, the short waists and shirts in Pye-court is the mode; then the wide hose, or a man in coats again. * * Methinks we should learn to handle distaff too: Hercules did so when he courted Omphale; and those who sacrificed to Ceres put on the petticoat with much confidence. * *

It was a fine silken thing which I spied walking tother day through Westminster Hall, that had as much ribbon about him as would have plundered

Sir Roger L'Estrange. six shops, and set up twenty country pedlars. All his body was dressed like a May-pole, or a Tom-a

of newspapers and writing of pamphlets, mostly Bedlam's cap. A frigate newly rigged kept not half

in behalf of the court, from which he at last resuch a clatter in a storm, as this puppet's streamers

ceived the honour of knighthood. He is generally did when the wind was in his shrouds; the motion

considered to have been the first writer who sold his was wonderful to behold, and the well-chosen colours

services in defence of any measure, good or bad. As were red, orange, blue, and well gummed satin, which

a controversialist, he was bold, lively, and vigorous, argued a happy fancy, but so was our gallant over

but coarse, impudent, abusive, and by no means a charged, [that] whether he did wear this garment, or

scrupulous regarder of truth. He is known also

as a translator, having produced versions of Æsop's * A rare pamphlet by Evelyn. | Fables, Seneca's Morals, Cicero's Offices, Erasmus's


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