Pepys,
when he is with Coventry, talks in the vein of an old Roman.
What does he care for office or emolument? "Thank God, I
have enough of my own," says he, "to buy me a good book and a
good fiddle, and I have a good wife." And again, we find
this pair projecting an old age when an ungrateful country
shall have dismissed them from the field of public service;
Coventry living retired in a fine house, and Pepys dropping
in, "it may be, to read a chapter of Seneca."
Under this influence, the only good one in his life, Pepys
continued zealous and, for the period, pure in his
employment. He would not be "bribed to be unjust," he says,
though he was "not so squeamish as to refuse a present
after," suppose the king to have received no wrong. His new
arrangement for the victualling of Tangier he tells us with
honest complacency, will save the king a thousand and gain
Pepys three hundred pounds a year, - a statement which
exactly fixes the degree of the age's enlightenment. But for
his industry and capacity no praise can be too high. It was
an unending struggle for the man to stick to his business in
such a garden of Armida as he found this life; and the story
of his oaths, so often broken, so courageously renewed, is
worthy rather of admiration that the contempt it has
received.
Elsewhere, and beyond the sphere of Coventry's influence, we
find him losing scruples and daily complying further with the
age.
Pages:
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326