Who more
unfortunate
than I?
Warner - World's Best Literature - v19 - Oli to Phi
I was not in love with her. But if the sentiment she awoke
in me was not what is called love, I confess that it was some-
thing like it. I desired that she should be happy, that she should
succeed in marrying him who pleased her. I had no jealousy
towards the object of her affection. But when I heard the door
open, my heart beat with the hope that it was Zanze: if it were
## p. 11273 (#493) ##########################################
SILVIO PELLICO
11273
not, I was dissatisfied; if it were, my heart beat yet more strongly,
and I was delighted.
She had a simplicity and lovableness which was seducing.
"I am
so much in love with another man," she said to me,
"yet I love so to stay with you! When I do not see my lover,
I am uneasy everywhere but here; and it seems to me that it is
because I esteem you so very much. " Poor girl! she had the
blessed fault of continually taking my hand and pressing it, and
did not perceive that this pleased and disturbed me at the same
time. Now was I to blame if I wished for her visits with ten-
der solicitude, if I appreciated their sweetness, if I was pleased
to be pitied by her, and requited sympathy with sympathy, since
our thoughts relating to each other were as pure as the purest
thoughts of infancy? since even her taking my hand, and her
most affectionate looks, while they disturbed me, filled me with
a saving reverence?
One evening, while she poured into my heart a great affliction
that she had experienced, the unhappy girl threw her arms upon
my neck, and covered my face with her tears. In this embrace
there was not the shadow of a profane thought. A daughter
could not embrace her father with more respect. Another time,
when she abandoned herself to a similar burst of filial confi-
dence, I quickly unbound myself from her dear arms, and without
pressing her upon my bosom, without kissing her, said stammer-
ing: "Pray do not ever embrace me, Zanze: it is not right. '
She looked into my face, looked down, blushed, and it was the
first time that she read in my soul the possibility of any weak-
ness in relation to her. She did not cease to be familiar with me,
but from that time her familiarity became more respectful, more
in accordance with my wishes; and I was grateful to her for it.
Zanze fell sick. During the first days of her illness she came
to see me, and complained of great pain in her head. She wept,
but did not and would not explain the cause of her tears. She
only stammered of her lover, "He is a bad man; but may God
forgive him! "
"I shall return to-morrow morning," she said one evening.
But my coffee was brought by a prison attendant. He said some
ambiguous things about this girl's love affair, which made my
hair stand on end. A month later she was carried into the
country, and I saw her no more, and my prison became again
like a tomb.
## p. 11274 (#494) ##########################################
11274
SILVIO PELLICO
HIS SUFFERINGS FROM COLD
THE summer being ended, during the last half of September
the heat diminished. October came, and I then rejoiced in hav-
ing a room which would be comfortable in winter. But one
morning the jailer told me that he had orders to change my cell.
"And where am I to go? "
"A few steps from this into a cooler room. »
"And why did you not think of it when I was dying with
heat; when the air was all gnats and the bed all bugs? "
"The order did not come before. "
"Well, patience! let us go. "
Although I had suffered so much in that room, it pained
me to leave it; not only because it would have been best in the
cold season, but for many other reasons. Had not this sad prison
been cheered by the compassion of Zanze? How often she rested
on that window! There she used to sit; in that place she told
me one story, in this another; there she bent over my table, and
her tears dropped upon it.
It [the new room] was in the Piombi, but on the north and
west; an abode of perpetual cold, and of horrible ice in the
severe months.
THE RECEPTION OF THE FINAL SENTENCE
ON THE 21st of February, 1822, the jailer came for me about
ten o'clock in the forenoon. He conducted me to the hall of
the commission, and withdrew. The president, the inquisitor, and
the two assistant judges were seated. They rose. The president,
with an expression of generous commiseration, told me that my
sentence had arrived, and that the judgment had been terrible,
but that the Emperor had mitigated its severity. The inquisi-
tor read the sentence, "Condemned to death. " He then read the
imperial rescript: "The punishment is commuted to fifteen years'
severe imprisonment in the fortress of Spielberg. "
I answered, The will of God be done! " It was truly my
intention to receive this terrible blow as a Christian, and neither
to show nor to indulge resentment against any one.
"We regret," said the inquisitor, "that to-morrow the sentence
must be announced to you in public; but the formality cannot be
dispensed with. "
## p. 11275 (#495) ##########################################
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11275
"Be it so, then," I said. God had put me to a severe proof.
My duty was to sustain it with fortitude. I could not! I would
not! I had rather hate than forgive. I passed an infernal night.
At nine in the forenoon Maroncelli and I were put into a
gondola. We landed at the palace of the Doge and ascended to
the prisons. We were put into a cell and waited long. It was
not till noon that the inquisitor appeared and announced to us
that it was time to go. The physician was present and proposed
to us to drink a glass of mint-water. We did so, and were
grateful for his kindness. The chief of the guard then put
handcuffs on us. We descended, and between two files of Ger-
man soldiers, passed through the gateway into the Piazzetta, in the
centre of which was the scaffold we were to ascend.
Having mounted the scaffold, we looked around and saw the
immense crowd of people filled with consternation. In several
places at a distance other soldiers were drawn up, and we were
told that cannon with lighted matches were stationed on every
side. The German captain called out to us to turn toward the
palace and look up. We obeyed, and saw upon the open gallery
an officer of the court with a paper in his hand. It was the
sentence. He read it in a loud voice. Profound silence reigned
until he came to the words, "Condemned to death. " Then a
general murmur of compassion arose. Silence again succeeded,
that the reading might be finished. New murmurs arose at
the words "Condemned to severe imprisonment; Maroncelli for
twenty years, and Pellico for fifteen. "
The captain then made a sign for us to descend.
We did so,
again entering the court, reascending the great stairs, and return-
ing to the room from which we had been taken. Our handcuffs
were remov
oved, and we were taken back to San Michele.
―――――
HIS JOURNEY TO THE FINAL PRISON OF THe Spielberg
AFTER the delay of a month and four days, we set out for
the Spielberg in the night between the 25th and 26th of March.
A police servant chained us transversely, the right hand to the
left foot, to render our escape impossible. Six or seven guards,
armed with muskets and sabres, part within the carriage and
part on the box with the driver, completed the convoy of the
commissary.
In passing through the Illyrian and German provinces, the
exclamation was universal, "Poor gentlemen! " In a village of
## p. 11276 (#496) ##########################################
11276
SILVIO PELLICO
Styria, a young girl followed us in the midst of a crowd, and
when our carriage stopped for a few minutes, saluted us with
both hands, then went away with a handkerchief at her eyes,
leaning on the arm of a melancholy-looking young man.
On the 10th of April we arrived at the place of our destina-
tion. About three hundred convicts, for the most part robbers
and assassins, are here confined. Those condemned to severe im-
prisonment (carcere duro) are obliged to labor, to wear chains on
their feet, to sleep on bare planks, and to eat the poorest food
imaginable. Those condemned to very severe imprisonment (car-
cere durissimo) are chained more horribly, with a band of iron
around the waist, and the chain fastened in the wall in such a
way that they can only walk by the side of the planks which
serve them for a bed; their food is the same, although the law
says bread and water. We, prisoners of State, were condemned
to severe imprisonment.
THE FIRST DAY IN THE PRISON OF SPIELBERG
WE WERE Consigned to the superintendent of the prison. Our
names were registered among those of the robbers.
We were
then conducted to a subterranean corridor. A dark room was
opened for each of us, and each was shut up there.
When I found myself alone in this horrible den, and heard
the bolts fastened, and distinguished, by the dim light which fell
from the small high window, the bare planks given me for a
bed, and an enormous chain in the wall, I seated myself on that
bed shuddering; and took up the chain and measured its length,
thinking it was intended for me.
Half an hour after, I heard the keys grate; the door was
opened, and the head jailer brought me a pitcher of water.
"This is to drink," he said, "and to-morrow morning I will
bring the bread, " He turned back asking me how long I had
coughed so badly; and hurled a great curse against the physician
for not coming the same evening to visit me.
"You have a galloping fever," he added: "I can perceive
that you need at least a sack of straw; but till the physician has
ordered it we cannot give it to you. " He went away and closed
the door, and I laid myself on the hard plank, burning with
fever and with strong pain in the breast.
In the evening the superintendent came, accompanied by
the jailer, a corporal, and two soldiers, to make an examination.
## p. 11277 (#497) ##########################################
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11277
Three daily examinations were prescribed, one in the morning,
one in the evening, and one at midnight. The prisoner is
stripped naked, every corner of the cell and every article of
clothing are strictly examined.
The first time I saw this troop, being then ignorant of those
vexatious usages, and delirious from the fever, I fancied they
had started to kill me, and grasped the long chain that was near
me to break the head of the first who should approach me.
"What are you doing? " said the superintendent: "we are not
come to do you any harm. This is a visit of formality to all
the cells, to assure ourselves that there is no irregularity there. "
The jailer stretched out his hand; I let go the chain and took
his hand between mine.
"How it burns! " said he to the superintendent.
HIS FIRST EXPERIENCE OF THE DIET OF THE SPIELBERG PRISON
ON THURSDAY morning, two hours after the visitation had
been made. the jailer brought me a piece of brown bread, saying:
"This is your portion for two days. "
At eleven my dinner was brought by a convict, accompanied
by Schiller the jailer. It consisted of two iron pots, one contain-
ing very bad broth, the other beans seasoned with such a sauce
that the mere smell brought disgust. I attempted to swallow
some spoonfuls of broth, but it was not possible for me. Schiller
kept saying, over and over again, "Have courage: get yourself
accustomed to this food; otherwise it will happen to you as it
has to others, to eat nothing but a little bread, and then die of
weakness. "
HE ASSUMES THE PRISON UNIFORM
FIVE days after this, my prison dress was brought me. It
consisted of a pair of pantaloons of coarse cloth, the right side
gray, the left of capuchin color [chocolate]; a waistcoat of the two
colors disposed in the same way; and a roundabout coat of the
same colors, but arranged in the opposite way. The stockings
were of coarse wool, the shirt of tow-cloth full of shives, a real
hair-cloth; and round the neck was a piece of cloth like the shirt.
The brogans were of uncolored leather, laced. The hat was
white. This livery was completed by a chain from one leg to
the other, the cuffs of which were closed by rivets headed down
on an anvil.
## p. 11278 (#498) ##########################################
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SILVIO PELLICO
HE TRIES TO LIVE ON THE "QUARTER-PORTION"
THE physician, seeing that none of us could eat the kind of
food that had been given us, put us upon what was called the
quarter-portion; that is, the diet of the hospital. This was some
very thin soup three times a day, a small piece of roast lamb
that might be swallowed at a mouthful, and perhaps three ounces
of white bread. As my health improved, that quarter was too
little. I tried to return to the food of the well, but it was so
disgusting that I could not eat it. It was absolutely necessary
that I should keep to the quarter; and for more than a year I
knew what are the torments of hunger.
Our barber, a young man who came to us every Saturday,
said to me one day, "It is reported in the city that they give
you gentlemen but little to eat. "
"It is very true," I replied. The next Saturday he brought
and offered me secretly a large loaf of white bread. Schiller pre-
tended not to see him offer it. If I had listened to my stomach,
I should have accepted it; but I stood firm in refusing, lest the
poor young man should be tempted to repeat his gift, which some
day might be a heavy mischief to him.
THE COMFORT AND THE PANG OF SYMPATHY
f us
"A
as
IT WAS from the first an established rule that each
should be permitted to walk for an hour twice a week.
pleasant walk to you! " each whispered through the opening
I passed his door; but I was not allowed to stop to salute y
one. In the court we met several passing Italian robbers, 10
saluted me with great respect, and said among themselves, "
is not a rogue like us, yet his imprisonment is more severe th
ours. " One of them once said to me, "Your greeting, signore
does me good. An unhappy passion dragged me to commit a
crime: O signore, I am not, indeed I am not, a villain. " Then
he burst into tears.
One morning, as I was returning from walking, the door of
Oroboni's cell stood open; Schiller was within, and had not heard
me coming. My guards stepped forward to close the door; but I
anticipated them, darted in, and was in the arms of Oroboni.
Schiller was dumbfounded. "Der Teufel! der Teufel! " he cried;
and raised his finger threateningly. But his eyes filled with tears,
and he exclaimed, "O my God, have mercy on these poor young
## p. 11279 (#499) ##########################################
SILVIO PELLICO
11279
men, and on me, and on all the unhappy, Thou who didst suffer
so much upon earth! " The guards shed tears also.
Oroboni said, «< Silvio, Silvio, this is one of the most pre-
cious days of my life! " When Schiller conjured us to separate,
and we were forced to obey him, Oroboni burst into a flood of
tears and said, "Shall we never see each other again upon
earth? " I never did see him more. Some months afterward
his room
was empty, and Oroboni was lying in that cemetery
which I had in front of my window.
AOLO [alone] -
PAOLO
Paolo-
MEETING OF FRANCESCA AND PAOLO
From Francesca da Rimini'
My love
To go,
To look on her for the last time.
Renders me deaf to duty's voice.
To see her nevermore, were sacred duty.
I cannot that. Oh, how she looked at me!
Grief makes her still more beautiful; ah, yes,
More beautiful, more superhuman fair
She seems to me: and have I lost her too?
Has Lanciotto snatched her from my arms?
Oh, maddening thought! Oh! oh! do I not love
My brother? Happy he is now, and long
May he be so.
But what? to build his own
Sweet lot must he a brother's heart-strings break?
Francesca [advancing without seeing Paolo]-
Francesca-
Where is my father? At the least from him
I might have known if he still lodges here.
My brother-in-law! These walls I ever shall
Hold dear. Ah, yes, his spirit will exhale
Upon this sacred soil which he has wet
With tears! O impious woman, chase away
Such criminal thoughts: I am a wife!
In a soliloquy, and groans.
Alas,
This place I must forsake: it is too full
Of him! To my own private altar I
Must go apart, and day and night, prostrate
Before my God, beg mercy for my sins;
--
She talks
## p. 11280 (#500) ##########################################
11280
SILVIO PELLICO
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
That He, the Lord and only refuge of
Afflicted hearts, will not abandon me
Entire.
Francesca
-
Sir- what wilt thou?
[She starts to go.
Oh! what do I see!
To speak with me?
To speak with thee again.
Alas, I am alone! —
O father, father, where art thou? Dost thou
Leave me alone? Thy own, thy daughter save!
I shall have strength to flee.
Abhor me.
Whither?
Alas, pursue me not! my wish respect;
To my house altar here I am retiring:
Th' unfortunate have need of heaven.
Paolo,
Alas! what do I say? Alas, weep not.
Thy death I do not ask.
Oh, sir-
O lady!
Paternal altars I will come to kneel
With thee.
Who more unfortunate than I?
There shall our mingled thoughts ascend.
Thou shalt invoke my death, the death of him
Thou dost abhor. I too will pray that Heaven
Thy vows will hear, forgive thy hatred and
Pour joy into thy soul, and long preserve
The youth and beauty in thy looks, and give thee
All thy desire-all, all! -thy consort's love and
Beautiful children of him!
At my
Only thou dost
And what carest thou for it, if
I must abhor thee? I mar not thy life.
To-morrow I no longer shall be here.
Francesca, if thou dost abhor me, what
Is that to me? and this thou askest, thou?
And does thy hate disturb my life? and these
Funereal words are thine? — Thou, beautiful
As a bright angel whom the Deity,
In the most ardent transport of his love,
Created, dear to every one, and thou
A happy consort, - darest to talk of death.
Me it befalls that for vain honor's sake
## p. 11281 (#501) ##########################################
SILVIO PELLICO
11281
Francesca -
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca -
I have been dragged from fatherland afar,
And lost. Unhappy wretch! I lost a father.
Hope always clung to re-embrace him. He
Would not have made me an unfortunate,
If I had opened up my heart to him;
And would have given me her- her whom I've lost
For aye.
What dost thou mean? Talk of thy lady-
And dost thou live so wretched robbed of her?
Is love so prepotential in thy breast?
Love should not be the only flame that burns
In the bosom of a valorous cavalier.
Dear to him is his brand, and dear the trump
Of fame; noble affections these: pursue them.
Let not love make thee vile.
Is this?
What words are these?
Wouldst thou have pity? Wouldst thou still be able
Somewhat to cease thy hatred, if I should
With my good sword acquire some greater fame?
One word of thy command, 'tis done. Prescribe
The place, the years. To shores the most remote
I'll make my way; the graver I shall find
The enterprises, and the fuller fraught
With danger, so the sweeter they will be
To me, because Francesca laid them on me.
Honor and hardihood before have made
My sinews strong, but thy adorèd name
Will make them stronger. And, with thee intent,
Of tyrants now my glories will not be
Contaminate. Another crown than bay,
But woven still by thee, will I desire.
One single plaudit thine, one word, one smile,
One look-
Eternal God! what sort of man
Francesca, I love thee, I love thee,
And desperate is my love.
What do I hear!
Am I in a delirium? What didst
Thou say?
XIX-706
I love thee.
They might o'erhear.
So sudden? Dost not
Why so bold? hush, hush!
Thou lov'st me! Is thy flame
know I am thy own
## p. 11282 (#502) ##########################################
11282
SILVIO PELLICO
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo-
Francesca
Paolo -
Francesca
Paolo-
―
Sister-in-law? So quickly canst thou cast
Into oblivion thy lady lost?
Oh, wretched me! let go this hand of mine!
Thy kisses, oh, are crimes!
No, no; my flame
Is not a sudden flash. A lady I
Have lost, and thou art she; of thee I spoke;
For thee I wept; thee did I love, do love thee,
Shall love thee always till my latest hour!
And even if I must in the world below
Th' eternal penance bear of wicked love,
Eternally I'll love thee more and more.
Shall it be true? Was't me that thou didst love?
The day that at Ravenna I arrived,
Yes, from that day I loved thee.
Leave off; thou loved'st me?
-
―――――
Then some time this flame
I did conceal, but still one day it seemed
That thou hadst read my heart. Thy steps thou wast
Directing from thy maiden chambers toward
Thy secret garden. I, beside the lake,
Stretched out at length among the flowers,
Thy chambers watched, and at thy coming rose
Trembling. Upon a book thy wandering eyes
Seemed to me not intent; upon the book
There fell a tear. Flushed with emotion, thou
Didst draw thee near to me, and then we read, —
Together read: "Of Lanciotto, how
Love bound him,”—and alone we were, without
Any suspicion near us. Then our looks
Encountered one another, and my face
Whitened, thou didst tremble, and with haste
Didst vanish.
Thou, alas!
What an escapade! With thee
The book remained.
It used to make me
Sojourn. Here 'tis.
Here 'tis.
Look here and see;
From thy own eyes.
It lies upon my heart.
happy in my far
See, here the page we read.
here fell the tears that day,
Translation of J. F. Bingham.
## p. 11283 (#503) ##########################################
11283
SAMUEL PEPYS.
(1633-1703)
BY ARTHUR GEORGE PESKETT
EN THE front of the Pepysian Library at Magdalene College,
Cambridge, is inscribed the sentence from Cicero that Sam-
uel Pepys chose as his motto: "Mens cuiusque is est quisque »
-"The mind makes the man. " To those who regard him as a mix-
ture of garrulous diarist and painstaking official the motto may seem
inappropriate, for seen in this aspect alone he reaches no high level
of intellectual attainment; but to all who
have followed his career to its close and
learned to know him better, the phrase suf-
ficiently indicates his attitude towards the
world at large. Himself a man of keen
intelligence and great practical sagacity,
he was extraordinarily quick to gauge and
appraise the intelligence of others. Numer-
ous passages of his diary attest this ready
insight into the character and intellectual
merits of his contemporaries, and the de-
light that he took in the society of those
who, possessing information on any subject,
no matter what its nature, could impart it
agreeably. Pleasant discourse with friend
or chance acquaintance upon topics grave or gay, trivial or weighty,
is as sure to be recorded as important details of business or of State
policy. He was a man of unbounded curiosity: to use his own quaint
expression, he was always "with child to see any strange thing. "
With these more intellectual traits was united an inexhaustible
capacity for purely animal enjoyment of life. It is this universality
of human interest that makes him one of the most engaging charac-
ters in history, and his diary a unique production of literature. It
was this same keen zest and interest in human affairs that stimulated
him to become one of the most zealous and capable secretaries that
the Admiralty Board has ever had. And we must add also that it
was this many-sided enjoyment of life that led him frequently to in-
dulge in pleasures that shock the stricter decorum of the present age.
These characteristics, moreover, were combined with a naïve simplicity
SAMUEL PEPYS
## p. 11284 (#504) ##########################################
11284
SAMUEL PEPYS
and a childlike vanity that amaze, as much as they delight, the readers
of his artless self-revelations. As a public functionary, if he did not
quite reach the high standard of integrity required in these days, he
was at any rate far in advance of many — perhaps the majority — of his
contemporaries in the employ of the State, while his patriotism was
always above question. Though constitutionally timid, he neverthe-
less possessed that moral courage which prevents a man from shirk-
ing his duty in moments of danger or difficulty. All through the
Plague, when there was a general flight from London, he remained
in or near town, and went on with his official work much as usual;
nor does the diary contain a single expression of self-satisfaction at
his own conduct in the matter. In disposition he was irascible and
prone to undignified outbursts of temper, of which he was afterwards
heartily ashamed. As to his religious views,- for they must be taken
into account in estimating his character,- he lived and died in the
accepted faith of a Christian; but his religion was strongly tinged
with superstition, and exercised no potent influence over his early
life. He was a regular attendant at church, and an uncompromising
critic of sermons unless his attention was distracted by a fair face in
a neighboring pew. He exclaims "God forgive me if he strings his
lute or reads "little French romances >> or makes up his accounts on
a Sunday; but he omits to seek the Divine forgiveness when, after
attending two services, he flirts with a pretty young woman who he
fears "is not so good as she ought to be. " He loved and admired
his wife, and was jealous of her; but he was a faithless spouse, and
gravely recorded in his diary the minutest particulars of his amours.
Such, in its curious blending of strength and weakness, meanness
and greatness, was the character of Samuel Pepys. A distinguished
critic, James Russell Lowell, has called him a Philistine. If the term
implies a man of somewhat coarse tastes, with no aptitude for pro-
found thought, with no fine literary instinct and no subtle sense of
humor, then and then only is the reproach a just one; for few will
admit that a man of acknowledged capacity in affairs, one who after
his great speech in defense of the Navy Board at the bar of the
House of Commons was greeted as the most eloquent speaker of the
age and as "another Cicero,” — a man who was president of the
Royal Society, and was pronounced by competent judges a fit person
to be provost of the great foundation of Henry VI. at Cambridge,-
could fairly be called a Philistine in the ordinary sense of the word.
But Pepys may justly claim to be judged by his works; and two
abiding memorials bear striking testimony to the varied merits of his
singular personality, -the Library and the Diary. It may be useful
to give a short account of each of them.
-
It seems probable that Pepys began his book collecting in the
year 1660; when his appointment, through the influence of his cousin
## p. 11285 (#505) ##########################################
SAMUEL PEPYS
11285
and patron Sir Edward Montagu, to a secretaryship in the office of
Mr. Downing, and then to the clerkship of the Acts, gave him for the
first time a sufficient income. Frequent references to the purchase of
books will be found in the Diary, the binding sometimes proving a
greater attraction than the contents. For instance, he writes May 15th,
1660: "Bought for the love of the binding three books: the French
Psalms in four parts, Bacon's 'Organon,' and 'Farnab. Rhetor. '» So
by slow degrees was amassed a library which at its owner's death
contained three thousand volumes,- -an unusual size for a private
library of that day. As clerk to the Acts, and afterwards secretary
to the Admiralty,- an office which he held from 1669 till the change
of government in 1689,- he acquired a considerable number of valua-
ble books and MSS. on naval affairs, which he intended to serve as
material for a projected history of the English navy. Among other
treasures are five large volumes of ballads or "broadsides," mostly in
black-letter; three of State Papers, the gift of John Evelyn; three
volumes of portraits in "taille-douce," collected apparently in re-
sponse to a suggestion in a long and valuable letter from Evelyn,
dated August 12th, 1689;* three of calligraphical collections; six of
prints general; two of frontispieces in taille-douce; two of views
and maps of London and Westminster; several early printed books,
including some by Caxton and Wynkyn de Worde; the 'Libro de
Cargos,' —a MS. list of the provisions and munitions of each ship in
the Spanish Armada, compiled by the "Proveedor" of the Fleet,
Bernabe de Pedroso; two MS. volumes of the Maitland poems; an
account of the escape of Charles II. from Worcester, taken down in
shorthand from the King's own dictation; and many other rarities
too numerous to mention.
These books- except a few of the largest, which are in the
cupboards of an old writing-table- were placed in twelve handsome
presses of dark stained oak, in which they may still be seen in Mag-
dalene College. The arranging, indexing, and cataloguing of so large
a collection occupied much of Pepys's time, and that of his able
assistant Paul Lorrain; and the whole library bears evidence to the
minute care bestowed on its preservation. It was left by will to
his nephew and heir John Jackson, second son of his sister Paulina,
who once occupied the curious position of domestic servant in her
brother's house. John Jackson was of great help to Pepys in the
collection of his prints and drawings; traveling on the Continent, ap-
parently at his uncle's expense, and bringing home numerous treas-
ures to be enshrined in the library. On Pepys's death in 1703, the
library passed into Jackson's hands; and on his death in 1724, it was
transferred, in accordance with the diarist's will, to his own and his
* See 'Diary and Correspondence of John Evelyn' (London, Bickers &
Son, 1879), Vol. iii. , pages 435 ff.
## p. 11286 (#506) ##########################################
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SAMUEL PEPYS
nephew's college of St. Mary Magdalene, there to be preserved in
perpetuity. An interesting testimony to the care bestowed on the
library by Jackson is afforded by the following entries, with his sig-
nature attached, in one of the catalogues: "Review'd and finally
Placed August 1st, 1705: No one of ye 2474 Books contained in the
foregoing Catalogue being then wanting. Jackson. " "Vid. rest of
ye Library in Additament. Catalogue consisting of 526 Books more,
making the whole Number just 3000. Jackson. " In another cata-
logue are two contemporary drawings of the library in York Build-
ings, taken from different aspects. Only seven presses are there
depicted. They are somewhat incorrectly drawn, and the position of
the books must be due to the artist's fancy, or represent an arrange-
ment afterwards discarded, as it is quite unsuitable to the present
interior construction.
One would like to know how many of these books were read
by their owner. During the period covered by the Diary, his work
at the Navy Office and his numerous social engagements seem to
have left him little time for reading, and in later life his defective
eyesight must have rendered continuous or rapid reading extremely
difficult; but of this later period our knowledge is unfortunately
scanty and derived chiefly from letters. On the whole, we are dis-
posed to regard him rather as a diligent collector than as a serious
student of literature.
It remains to speak of the Diary. The MS. in six volumes, writ-
ten in shorthand, lurked unnoticed in the library till the beginning
of this century, when it was unearthed by the Master of Magdalene.
It was then transcribed by the Rev. John Smith, and a large portion
of it published with valuable notes by Lord Braybrooke. A fresh
transcription was subsequently made by the Rev. Mynors Bright,
President of Magdalene, whose edition in six volumes, incorporating
much more of the original, appeared in 1875-9. Another edition,
now in course of completion in nine volumes (one of supplementary
matter), under the editorship of the well-known antiquarian Mr. H. B.
Wheatley, contains everything that can be printed with due regard
to propriety. The question has often been raised, and will probably
never be satisfactorily answered, whether Pepys intended his Diary to
be published. To us it seems almost certain that he would have
been shocked at the idea of its becoming public property, when we
consider the secrecy with which he kept it, and his pathetic remark
in the last entry of all (May 31st, 1669), that henceforward, owing to
his failure of eyesight, it would have to be kept by his people in
longhand, who would "set down no more than is fit for them and
all the world to know. " We must remember too that in later life,
*One of these is reproduced in Mynors Bright's edition of the Diary, Vol.
iv. , page 59.
## p. 11287 (#507) ##########################################
SAMUEL PEPYS
11287
Pepys's most intimate associates were men of great worth and dig-
nity, who held him in the highest possible esteem; and we cannot
but feel that in the evening of life, amid such surroundings, he would
look back with regret to the follies of his youth and desire them to
be buried in oblivion. But fortunately for the world, whatever his
intentions may have been, the Diary has been published; and who
shall adequately tell of its contents? To describe it in any detail
would be to touch on every phase of the stirring life of London dur-
ing ten years of an eventful period of our history. The return of
Charles and the settlement of the government, the first Dutch war
and the shameful blockade of the Thames, the Plague, and the Fire,
all fell within this period. But apart from events of national import-
ance, the daily social life of the time is reproduced here with such
simple and striking fidelity that we seem to see with our own eyes
all that Pepys saw,-the stately court pageants, the frivolity of the
gallants and fair ladies who thronged the palace, the turmoil of
the narrow dirty streets, the traffic of barges and rowboats on the
Thames, and all the thousand incidents of life in the great metropo-
lis. We can follow him on board ship when he crossed to Holland
with Sir E. Montagu to bring back the King, and learn an infinity of
details about life at sea; we can go with him for a day's outing into
the country, where he enjoys himself with the ardor of a schoolboy;
we can accompany him in graver mood through the dismal devasta-
tion brought by the Plague, and see the smoking ruins and the home-
less fugitive crowds of the "annus mirabilis "; we can enter with him
into church, theatre, and tavern, all of which he frequented with
assiduous and impartial regularity. We are told what he ate and
drank, what clothes he and his wife wore and how much they cost;
he acquaints us with his earnings and spendings, the vows that he
made to abstain from various naughtinesses and the facility with
which he broke them, the little penalties that he inflicted on him-
self, such as 12d. for every kiss after the first,- and all the little
events of his daily life, which however trivial never fail to interest,
such is the charm with which they are told. He admits us to the
inmost recesses of his house, where prying eyes should never have
come: we see him in a fit of ill temper kicking his maid-servant or
his wife's French poodle, or even pulling the fair nose of Mrs. Pepys
herself. He gives us unlovely details of his illnesses, often the
result of his own shortcomings; he makes us the confidants of his
flirtations,— and they were neither choice nor few: yet for all this,
we are never angry.
To us he is and will ever remain the one in-
comparable Diarist.
A. G. Peskett
## p. 11288 (#508) ##########################################
11288
SAMUEL PEPYS
UN
NTIL the appearance, within three or four years, of the edition
of The Diary of Samuel Pepys' due to the labors of Mr.
Henry B. Wheatley, a large part of this famous record had
remained unknown to the general public; in spite of the fact that
at least two editions, in several volumes each, prepared respectively
by the Rev. Mynors Bright and Lord Braybrooke, were supposed
to present everything essential in the narrative. As Mr. Wheatley
observes in the preface to his edition, with the first appearance of
the Diary in 1825 scarcely half of Pepys's manuscript was printed;
the Rev. Mr. Bright's edition omitted about a fifth of it; and Lord
Braybrooke's edition, famous in the Bohn Library, also makes con-
siderable omissions. This recent edition in nine volumes, by Mr.
Wheatley, is now recognized as the standard one, and is likely long
to remain such. It is the only edition printing practically the entire
Diary, and correcting numerous errors in the translation of Pepys's
shorthand manuscript more or less noticeable in preceding editions.
The following selections from the Diary are copyrighted, and are
reprinted in the Library' by permission of the Macmillan Company
of New York, acting also for Messrs. George Bell & Sons, the English
publishers.
EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY
Ο
CTOBER 13th, 1660. ] To my Lord's in the morning, where
I met with Captain Cuttance, but my Lord not being up I
went out to Charing Cross, to see Major-General Harrison
hanged, drawn, and quartered; which was done there, he looking
as cheerful as any man could do in that condition.
He was pres-
ently cut down, and his head and heart shown to the people, at
which there was great shouts of joy. It is said that he said that
he was sure to come shortly at the right hand of Christ to judge
them that now had judged him; and that his wife do expect
his coming again. Thus it was my chance to see the King be-
headed at White Hall, and to see the first blood shed in revenge
for the blood of the King at Charing Cross. From thence to my
Lord's, and took Captain Cuttance and Mr. Sheply to the Sun
Tavern, and did give them some oysters. After that I went
by water home, where I was angry with my wife for her things
lying about, and in my passion kicked the little fine basket,
which I bought her in Holland, and broke it, which troubled me
after I had done it. Within all the afternoon setting up shelves
in my study. At night to bed.
## p. 11289 (#509) ##########################################
SAMUEL PEPYS
11289
14th (Lord's day). Early to my Lord's, in my way meeting
with Dr. Fairbrother, who walked with me to my father's back
again, and there we drank my morning draft, my father having
gone to church and my mother asleep in bed. Here he caused
me to put my hand among a great many honorable hands to
a paper or certificate in his behalf.
