en a miracle, and
indeed they were right in counting it so. Yet there was a flute from
which that music issued, and the flute was part of the rough furniture
of his imprisoned world. He was no scholar, nor delicate man of _belles
lettres_, like so many of his contemporaries. He took what came to his
hand; and in this lecture we have tried to show how much did come thus
to his hand that was rare and serviceable for the purposes of his
spirit, and for the expression of high spiritual truth.

LECTURE VI

PEPYS' DIARY

It is doubtful whether any of Bunyan's contemporaries had so strong a
human interest attaching to his person and his work as Samuel Pepys.
There is indeed something in common to the two men,--little or nothing
of character, but a certain _naivete_ and sincerity of writing, which
makes them remind one of each other many times. All the more because of
this does the contrast between the spirit of the two force itself upon
every reader; and if we should desire to find a typical pagan to match
Bunyan's spirituality and idealism, it would be difficult to go past
Samuel Pepys.

There were, as everybody knows, two famous diarists of the Restoration
period, Pepys and Evelyn. It is interesting to look at the portraits of
the two men side by side. Evelyn's face is anxious and austere,
suggesting the sort of stuff of which soldiers or saints are made. Pepys
is a voluptuous figure, in the style of Charles the Second, with regular
and handsome features below his splendid wig, and eyes that are both
keen and heavy, penetrating and luxurious. These two men (who, in the
course of their work, had to compare notes on several occasions, and
between whom we have the record of more than one meeting) were among the
most famous gossips of the world. But Evelyn's gossip is a succession of
solemnities compared with the racy scandal, the infantile and insatiable
curiosity, and the incredible frankness of the pagan diarist.

Look at his face again, and you will find it impossible not to feel a
certain amount of surprise. Of all the unlikely faces with which history
has astonished the readers of books, there are none more surprising than
those of three contemporaries in the later seventeenth century.
Claverhouse, with his powerful character and indomitable will, with his
Titanic daring and relentless cruelty, has the face of a singularly
beautiful young girl. Judge Jeffreys, whose delight in blood was only
equalled by the f