success.

Nor in the mean time was he wanting to his duty in the war itself, for he was present and in service in several of the King's journies and expeditions. By these occasions and the report of his high deserts, he speedily grew familiar to the chief men of the court and the gown, whom the fortune of the war had drawn together. And particularly, though he was then very young, he had the entire friendship of my Lord Falkland, one of the principal secretaries of state. That affection was contracted by the agreement of their learning and manners. For you may remember, Sir, we have often heard Mr. Cowley admire him, not only for the profoundness of his knowledge, which was applauded by all the world, but more especially for those qualities which he himself more regarded, for his generosity of mind, and his neglect of the vain pomp of human greatness.

During the heat of the Civil war, he was settled in my Lord St. Alban's family, and attended her Majesty the Queen-mother, when, by the unjust persecution of her subjects, she was forced to retire into France. Upon this wandering condition of the most vigorous part of his life, he was wont to reflect, as the cause of the long interruption of his studies. Yet we have no reason to think that he lost so great a space of time, if we consider in what business he employed his banishment. He was absent from his native country above twelve years; which were wholly spent, either in bearing a share in the distresses of the royal family,

or in labouring in their affairs. To this purpose, he performed several dangerous journies, into Jersey, Scotland, Flanders, Holland, or wherever else the King's troubles required his attendance. But the chief testimony of his fidelity was, the laborious service he underwent, in maintaining the constant correspondence between the late King and the Queen his wife. In that weighty trust, he behaved himself with indefatigable integrity and unsuspected secrecy. For he cyphered and decyphered, with his own hand, the greatest part of all the letters that passed between their Majesties, and managed a vast intelligence in many other parts; which, for some years together, took up all his days, and two or three nights every

week.

At length, upon his present Majesty's removal out of France, and the Queen-mother's staying behind, the business of that nature passed, of course, into other hands. Then it was thought fit, by those on whom he depended, that he should come over into England, and, under pretence of privacy and retirement, should take occasion of giving notice of the posture of things in this nation. Upon his return, he found his country groaning under the oppression of an unjust usurpation; and he soon felt the effects of it; for, while he lay hid in London, he was seized on, by a mistake, the search having been intended after another gentleman, of considerable note in the King's party. Being made a prisoner, he was often

examined before the usurpers, who tried all imaginable ways to make him serviceable to their ends. That course not prevailing, he was committed to a severe restraint; and scarce at last obtained his liberty upon the hard terms of a thousand pound bail, which burden Dr. Scarborough very honourably took upon himself. Under these bonds he continued till the general redemption. Yet, taking the opportunity of the confusions that followed upon Cromwell's death, he ventured back into France, and there remained in the same station as before, till near the time of the king's return.

This certainly, Sir, is abundantly sufficient to justify his loyalty to all the world; though some have endeavoured to bring it in question, upon occasion of a few lines in the preface to one of his books. The objection I must not pass by in silence, because it was the only part of his life that was liable to misinterpretation, even by the confession of those that envied his fame. In this case, perhaps, it were enough, to allege for him to men of moderate minds, that what he there said was published before a book of poetry, and so ought rather to be esteemed as a problem of his fancy and invention, than as the real image of his judgment. But his defence in this matter may be laid on a surer foundation. This is the true reason that is to be given of his delivering that opiniou. Upon his coming over, he found the state of the royal party very desperate. He perceived the strength

of their enemies so united, that, till it should begin to break within itself, all endeavours against it were like to prove unsuccessful. On the other side,

he beheld their zeal for his Majesty's cause to be still so active, that it often hurried them into inevitable ruin. He saw this with much grief. And though he approved their constancy as much as any man living, yet he found their unseasonable shewing it did only disable themselves, and give their adversaries great advantages of riches and strength by their defeats. He, therefore, believed that it would be a meritorious service to the King, if any man, who was known to have followed his interest, could insinuate into the usurpers' minds, that men of his principles were now willing to be quiet, and could persuade the poor oppressed royalists to conceal their affections for better occasions. And as for his own particular, he was a close prisoner when he writ that against which the exception is made; so that he saw it was impossible for him to pursue the ends for which he came hither, if he did not make some kind of declaration of his peaceable intentions. This was then his opinion; and the success of things seems to prove, that it was not very ill grounded; for, certainly, it was one of the greatest helps to the King's affairs, about the latter end of that tyranny, that many of his best friends dissembled their counsels, and acted the same designs, under the disguises and names of other parties.

This, Sir, you can testify to have been the innocent occasion of these words, on which so much clamour was raised. Yet, seeing his good intentions were so ill interpreted, he told me, the last time that ever I saw him, that he would have them omitted in the next impression; of which his friend Mr. Cook is a witness. However, if we should take them in the worst sense of which they are capable; yet, methinks, for his maintaining one false tenet in the political philosophy, he made a sufficient atonement, by a continual service of twenty years, by the perpetual loyalty of his discourse, and by many of his other writings, wherein he has largely defended and adorned the royal cause. And to speak of him, not as our friend, but according to the common laws of humanity, certainly, that life must needs be very unblameable, which had been tried in business of the highest consequence, and practised in the hazardous secrets of courts and cabinets; and yet there can nothing disgraceful be produced against it, but only the error of one paragraph and a single metaphor.

But to return to my narration, which this digression has interrupted upon the King's happy restoration, Mr. Cowley was past the fortieth year of his age; of which the greatest part had been spent in a various and tempestuous condition. He now thought he had sacrificed enough of his life to his curiosity and experience. He had enjoyed many excellent occasions of observation. He had been present in many great