words written in the solitude of his office by Pepys for his own eye
alone, and we cannot but feel how great is the world's loss in that he
never resumed the writing of his journal. All must agree with Coleridge
when he wrote on the margin of a copy of the Diary: "Truly may it be said
that this was a greater and more grievous loss to the mind's eye of
posterity than to the bodily organs of Pepys himself. It makes me restless
and discontented to think what a Diary equal in minuteness and truth of
portraiture to the preceding from 1669 to 1688 or 1690 would have been for
the true causes, process and character of the Revolution."

Most works of this nature are apt to tire when they are extended over a
certain length of time, but Pepys's pages are always fresh, and most
readers wish for more. For himself the editor can say that each time he
has read over the various proofs he has read with renewed interest, so
that it is with no ordinary feelings of regret that he comes to the end of
his task, and he believes that every reader will feel the same regret that
he has no more to read.

In reviewing the Diary it is impossible not to notice the growth of
historical interest as it proceeds. In the earlier period we find Pepys
surrounded by men not otherwise known, but as the years pass, and his
position becomes more assured, we find him in daily communication with the
chief men of his day, and evidently every one who came in contact with him
appreciated his remarkable ability. The survival of the Diary must ever
remain a marvel. It could never have been intended for the reading of
others, but doubtless the more elaborate portraits of persons in the later
pages were intended for use when Pepys came to write his projected history
of the Navy.

The only man who is uniformly spoken well of in the Diary is Sir William