"Next, the Lord North, Lord Chancellor of England, died, out of fear he should lose his place. He was my good friend, too, and might have done me good, if he had lived."

On his arrival in London, fresh annoyances await him; which result in his reoccupying his former lodgings. Alas for the attractive courts and gardens of Little Britain! Bricks and mortar, soot and smoke, have made sad work of them since his day :

was in the countrey, for promoting the con- I have had so much business and so little version of our negro slaves, was before. So leisure, either for my own private business or that both these designs failed. I did nothing the exercise of my religion, that I have scarce else all this winter; being so incommodated said any prayers some whole days. This in my lodgings, and, disturbed by the sick- most be altered. The reason why I took up ness of my family, and other troublesome this was, because I found my estate would accidents, that I had little heart to undertake hardly support me and my family, as my anything. But yet I made some attempts to tenants were able to pay it; and therefore I have gained a Master in Chancerie's place, of was willing to take any paines for an addiwhich I had a faire prospect; but it onely tion, and to earn my bread and part of theirs proved matter of charge and damage to me; with the hardest labor; as I have done: not being defeated in all I went about." out of covetousness, for, when all is done, it is not so considerable as to move that passion or excite the hope of growing rich; but purely out of necessity, to support my family in that chargeable place and in these dismal times. And therefore I hope my good God, who has showed me mercy in all estates, will, by His grace and His providence, so order things that I shall be able to escape the temptations on all hands; and that He will shortly bring me back to my deare countrey again, where I desire to spend the remainder of my days, and in which I would faine die, and be buried with my ancestors, in peace, if it may please Him."

For near a twelvemonth he continued, he says, "without any employment;" but the following winter, we are glad to learn, he "spent, in great peace and quiet, in London; meeting with little other difficulty than that of the return of moneys."

In March, 1687, our Diarist "is forced to removed into Charterhouse Yard." His limited means were not improbably the moving cause: as Charterhouse Yard (or Square), Sir John Bramston tells us, in his "Autobiography," was a sort of border residence, being as it were, betweene London and Middlesex," he would escape payment of certain taxes and contributions levied in both. In the same month also he commenced the first month (January) of a translation of the "Universal Historical Bibliothèque" of Le Clerc; the two succeeding months of which were also subsequently translated and published.

About this period Bohun received a small accession of fortune by the death of the widow of his uncle Humphrey, who, owing to the early death of his father, had brought him up:

"Business growing upon me," he says, " and I having now undertaken so much that I could scarce tell which way to turn me, I could scarce spare the time for my public or private prayers. But I was forced to drudge on, and, in humor or out of humor, to perform my task. The death of my aunt Bohun, however, laid an indispensable necessity upon me of returning into my own countrey, to take up her estate and to pay off the legacies given out of it by my uncle's will."

Great as was Bohun's enthusiasm for the right divine of kings," his zeal for the Church of England was even greater. As he was not exactly the man to hide his light under a bushel, his election soon became known at court, and here we have the speedy result:

"In this year (1687) the struggles grew those of the Church of England; and I being very great between the popish party and ingaged in it to a publick disputation with one of the priests belonging to Whitehall, I treated his reverence with so little respect that I was, for it, turned out of the commisand continued so till the abdication of King sion of the peace for the county of Suffolk; James II. By this means, and my living in in the troubles of those times, and never the city of London, I was wholly unconcerned examined, as others were."

The abrogation of the penal laws and test, and the exercise of the dispensing power, wère the points upon which, by royal mandate, the justices of the peace, throughout the country, were at this period strictly examined.

Accordingly, on the 6th of May he left London, and arrived at Westhall on the 7th," having taken up his eldest son Humphrey at Woodbridge, where he was at school. From his self-communings while at Westhall on this occasion, we learn his motives for so actively pursuing the calling of an author!

"Since I began to write for the press

Bohun's literary occupations this year were A Geographical Dictionary," published in 1688; and a translation of Sleidan's "History of the Reformation," published in 1689. At the commencement of the following year, he was engage.l upon an edition of Heylyn's

#

*Considered by Mr. Rix to have been Bohun's best production.

"Cosmography;" which, however, remained and resolved not to have any share in those unpublished till 1703, after his death.

prayers."

By the ensuing January, at all events, he seems to have made up his mind; though from the following extract it would seem that he still thought it desirable not to pronounce himself openly a Williamite :

"In Jan a clergyman put out an half sheet, pretending we were bound in conscience to recall King James; to which I put out an answer, which was betrayed by W. Kettlebuy, a stationer, to the party, and brought them about my ears."

May 26, 1688, Bohun pays a short visit to Suffolk. Political events are quickening apace, and his zeal for the Church of England evidently blinds him to the absurdity of the story as to the illegitimacy of the Prince of Wales; the "young Perkin" who was smuggled into the Queen's apartment in a warming-pan-as the Whigs would have it: "In this time the pretended Prince of Wales was borne. At my return I was advised not to speak anything of the prince's birth; for that I should be whipped at a The result was, that he now "lost his two cart's tail if I did. Why,' said I, have best and greatest friends," Archbishop Sancroft they managed their business so as to have and Dean Hickes; "and in a short time," he his birth questioned ? Yes,' said my monisays, "all the rest followed them; so that, tor, who was after that a great Jacobite. I must confess this startled me; but the more, by the end of February, I had not one friend when he came to be praied for in the Church; left; and many men that I conversed with when I saw the women look sideways of their being of the contrary party unknown to me, fans and laugh one upon another. And betraied and bantered me; I suspecting nothsome ministers asked me if they might legally ing from them who had ever before loved pray for him whom they believed to be an impostor; to which I said, Ay, they were no judges.' During the time I was below [i. e. in the country], I spake often and so seriously of the coming of the Prince of Orange, that I was in some danger for it. But all men seemed then to desire nothing more. As for me, I knew nothing of it, but by conjecture from the present state of affaires; which seemed to need it. About Michaelmass, we first heard of his designe; and all men then rejoiced at it as a deliverance sent by God. In November the newse came he was landed in the west; and I was neither overjoyed nor sad, because I feared the event both ways."

The following passage is graphic; but after our previous extracts, we can hardly believe that Bohun was as yet wholly undecided as to his future course :

me."

On the removal of Sir Roger L'Estrange from the office of Licenser of the Press, Bohun made a feeble attempt to obtain it, but to no purpose; for, in his own words, "all his friends were gone; and Whitehall was then inhabited by those he had no interest in." The office was bestowed upon "Mr. Frazier, a Scot by nation and inclination.'

The Jacobites holding that James had only deserted, and not abdicated, the throne, a violent paper war now ensued, and Bohun of course took up his pen in favor of the latter position:

"One of these prints, called "The Desertion discussed,' writ by one Coleman, a minister, occasioned my writing 'The History of the Desertion;' which more angered my Jacobite friends, but was praised only by the

other side."

"Praised only, and not rewarded," we presume to be his pregnant meaning. "The Desertion discussed," we may remark, is at

"The Tuesday following the Prince of Orange entered London, and was received with such transports of joy as I never saw; the people putting oranges on the ends of their sticks, to shew they were for him. For my part, I was yet not resolved any way; but stood gazing what would be the event. But a clergyman that stood by me, frowning tributed by Antony Wood, not to Coleman said, 'I don't like this.' Another said, How but to Jeremy Collier. was the king received?' Coldly.' Coldly.' Why

*

6

As some acknowledgment, though but & then there is no pitty for him,' said the other. very barren one, of his good offices, he is This gave me occasion to feare we might now restored to the magisterial bench; in divide. That which most troubled me was the praying for King James, as king, when society, however, for which he has evidently he was gone, and we desired him no more. This looked so hypocriticall that I hated it, *James, on his return from Feversham, after nis attempted escape.

but little relish :

"June 6, 1689. I was again sworne justice * James Fraser, better known as "Catalogue Fraser." ""

Archbishop Sancroft, who was still at Lambeth. When I asked him blessing, he answered with an unpleasing look and tone; so I rose and stood by him a little abashed; though I expected it, and was armed against it. Before I sat down, one of Custom-house, three times in the ear, that I the servants whispered Mr. Alexander, of the

of the peace for Suffolk, with one Pacey, of Leistoff [Lowestoft], a dissenter. I lived then in London, and neither desired nor regarded it; but took it up purely to shew I was hearty to their Majesties' government." With the view, in all probability, of vindicating his consistency, and of shewing that though no longer a Jacobite, he was still a Fil-was not welcome; and that he was come merite, he now published a small work intitled "The Doctrine of Non-resistance or Passive Obedience no way concerned in the Controversies between Williamites and Jacobites."

In October 1689, he gave a charge at Beccles Sessions-" to shew," he says, "my reasons for joining with the present government." Misfortune, however, still pursued him, and spite of his endeavors, he contrived to please nobody, and to make many enemies, but no friends:

govern

"The Jacobite and Williamite equally fell upon my last book; and I was attacked with great spite, and slandered by both. But I was resolved to write no more; the ment suffering books to be printed with license, for and against the doctrine, and [shewing] that the subjects owed nothing but a peaceable demeanour, though they had sworne allegiance. So that men wrote and spake of the king with as little respect or ceremony as of the constable of the parish." At the close of the summer he "puts his eldest son to Cambridge, and binds his third son to a leather-seller," destinations in singular contrast, to all appearance. This, he says, was a great expense to him; "the war in Ireland and Scotland, and abroad, being hot, and charges great." Though his estate had been increased by the death of his aunt, and, more recently, his mother, rents were so ill-paid that, by the year 1689, he "found himself necessitated to increase his debt to a mortgage probably being the debt

live; alluded to.

Steadfastly refusing to take the oath of allegiance, Archbishop Sancroft was suspended from his office on the first of August, 1689, and was finally deprived on the 1st of February following. He was permitted, however, to reside at Lambeth till the ensuing August, where he maintained the same retinue and splendor of establishment as he had previously done. In hopes, possibly, of making converts to his opinions, Bohun seems to have attended more than once at the ex-Archbishop's public dinners :

"At Epiphany, I went to dine with the

with one that was not welcome. But this
was unknowen to me. Nobody carved to
me, or drank to me, but my friend that came
with me.
This I observed; but I expected

it, so it did not disturbe me."

This surely must have been the last of our Diarist's attendances at the ex-Arch

bishop's "ordinary table," as Pepys calls it. Indeed, he himself informs us that having received sundry insults from one Mr. Hatton, within the precincts of the palace, and from Dr. Newman, the Archbishop's chaplain, he "broke for good and all with this party; despising their impotent rage, as not worth

his notice."

With the following extracts we end his rebuffs from the Jacobite party :

"Soon after, I met with Bishop Ken, in W. Kettlebuy's shop, and fell down on my knees and asked him blessing. Afterwards, I heard he enquired who I was; and, being told, he said, 'I forgive the little scribbler,' or to that purpose. I met, soon after, also with Dr. Hicks, and spoke friendly and respectfully to him; but he received me and my address with that coldness that I took my leave of him, and left him; and I have never seen him since. He lost the deanery of Worster by his stubbornness, and lives now, about town, concealed, and dares not shew his head."

About this time probably Bohun translated "The Present State of Germany" from the Latin of Puffendorf; published under a borrowed name, in 1690. His literary labors, however, were soon brought to a standstill:—

Paper became so deare, that all printing stopped, almost; and the stationers did not care to undertake any thing; and there was no help that way."

Fresh troubles still await him. Dale Hall, in Suffolk, to which he now retires, had been left him by his grandfather, Edmund Bohun :

"By this time the taxes were grown so heavy, the tenants paid their rent so ill, and there went so much money to my children, that I became very melancholy, and feared I

should be ruined by it. One Robert Os- No sooner is he appointed than the Whigs begin to murmur at his determination to put a check upon what he calls "the intolerable liberties" which they had taken of late "against the monarchy and the Church," and to spread reports that, spite of his professions, he is still a Jacobite at heart. So far from abetting their virulence against the fallen party,

borne, my tenant at Dale Hall, was about £300 in my debt; and besides spoyled my estate. So I resolved to part with him on any terms; though I went into it myself. Much I labored to let that estate; but I could not. So with great anguish of mind, I went down to Ipswich in August; and left my wife in London, to dispose of my family and put off my house. I left the farme in the tenant's hands till Our Lady, 1691. And then I went into it with a sorrowful heart: because I was forced to borrow money stock it, and paid excessive taxes besides. I lived here in great poverty and distress; being loth to encrease my debt, and scarce able to subsist: allways, when I was alone, calling upon God for some relief."

to

About this time (1690-1) he wrote "The Character of Queen Elizabeth;" which, however, he was unable to get printed till he became Licenser of the Press himself.

Another year comes; but only to find him

worse off than ever :

"1692. The taxes continued high, yea, encreased, in the next year. So that I fell into such poverty that it was a shame to me. but I resolved to beare all patiently; that I might maintain my eldest and most beloved son in Cambridge, for whom I would willingly have sacrificed my life. This year proved also very unseasonable; and I had the vexation to see my crop stried with the incessant raines. So that I lived a life truely full of misery, poverty, and disquiet."

In August he hears that the Licenser's place is again vacant*; but he now despairs:

"I, on the contrary," he says, "would suffer nothing to pass that might exasperate sellers with all the kindness and address that any of the parties; and treated the bookwas possible; reading, to the hazard of my health and eyes, to dispatch their business, and not disobliging any man in anything, as far as was possible."

66

At this period, as we learn from the pages of Macaulay, a History of the Bloody Assizes" was about to be published, and was expected to have as great a run as the "Pilgrim's Progress." But, true, to his determination, the new Censor refused his imprimatur. The book, he said, represented rebels and schismatics as heroes and martyrs, and he would not sanction it for its weight in gold. His motive, in this instance, may have been questionable; the act undoubtedly was right. The flames of discord had been sufficiently kindled; no additional fuel was

needed.

In the midst of his official labors, domestic sorrows overtake him :

"Dec. 2. I received an account that my beloved son [Humphrey] was dead at Cambridge. He was then to have taken his melancholy and distrust of himself; and in it, degree, and, overstudying himself, fell into a concealing it from his tutor and me, he perished. This almost broke my heart, and I have not, nor perhaps never shall, overgrow that intolerable grief."

Despite his bitter anguish, he resolves to vindicate himself from the charge of Jacobitism, and with that view publishes "Three Charges delivered at the General Quarter Sessions holden at Ipswich in the years 1691, 1692. To which is added, the Author's Vindication from the calumnies and mistakes cast on him on account of his Geographical Dictionary."

The Whig faction, however, had determined on his downfall; and Charles Blount, an avowed infidel and shameless plagiarist, was the appropriate tool for their dirty work.