rest on the 3rd of April, 1667; but whether he died at Vauxhall, at the family town mansion, Worcester House, in the Strand, or at some other place is unknown; so little was he understood or esteemed for his intellectual capacity at the period of the Restoration. As though it were not a sufficient infliction to be ruined, dishonoured, oppressed, and neglected while living, it would almost appear that events conspired to lessen, if possible, the lustre of his memory by the dark shades of apocryphal history; which ascribed the invention of the steam-engine to the pretended fact of the Marquis while in imprisonment, having seen a pot lid blown off by the expanding steam; made out against him a false case of political forgery; and, worse than all, scandalously forged a letter in Paris to make it appear that in 1641 the Marquis borrowed his idea of the steam engine from Salomon De Caus, during a visit to the Bicêtre, at Paris. The fact that this same De Caus died at Paris, and was buried in the Church of La Trinité, in February, 1626;[2] shows how requisite it is for rogues to remember historical dates.

On the 3rd of June, in 1663, the Parliament passed an Act securing to the Marquis of Worcester the full benefit and profit of his "Water-commanding Engine," for the term of ninety-nine years. And in the same year he printed his memorable "Century," in the Dedication of which he alludes to the above Act, as one by which he feels "sufficiently rewarded."

The "Century" is little more than a Catalogue Raisonné, although each matter of invention is as fully and intelligibly stated as was required in the Patent office specifications of the period. To give some idea of its contents, we shall enumerate only the first twenty-five. 1. Seals abundantly significant; 2. private and particular to each owner; 3. a one line cipher; 4. reduced to a point; 5. varied significantly to all the 24 letters; 6. a mute and perfect discourse by colours; 7. to hold the same by night; 8. to level cannon by night; 9. a ship-destroying engine; 10. how to be fastened from aloof and under water; 11. how to prevent both; 12. an unsinkable ship; 13. false destroying decks; 14. multiplied strength in little room; 15. a boat driving against wind and tide; 16. a sea-sailing fort; 17. a pleasant floating garden; 18. an hour-glass fountain; 19. a coach-saving engine; 20. a balance waterwork; 21. a bucket fountain; 22. an ebbing and flowing river; 23. an ebbing and flowing castle clock; 24. a strength increasing spring; and 25. a double drawing engine for weight.

We find in the "Century" that three of the articles refer to improved seals and watches; two to games; two to arithmetic and perspective; six to automata, or self-acting mechanical contrivances; no less than twenty-three to ciphers, correspondence, and signals: in short, secret writing and telegraphs; ten to useful appliances in domestic affairs; nine are wholly mechanical; upwards of thirty-two were intended for use in naval and military affairs; and thirteen, including his Water-commanding Engine, were connected with hydraulics. It is singular that he professes "to have tried and perfected all these," words of great import in all matters of novel invention.

That age was fond of patronizing what we should now-a-days be disposed to call "nic-nacs." Ingenious automata, curious toys and works of art, small fountains, singing birds, and similar curiosities attracted the serious attention of the virtuosi of the 17th century; so that we need not feel surprised that the Marquis set up a speaking Brazen Head; or that it should be of gigantic proportions, for he was always regardless of cost in such matters, and was never small where he could be great in developing his resources of ingenious contrivance. Wherever it was possible, he was magnificent—fortifications, embankments, ships rowing against wind and tide, great floating baths, and gardens, large cannon, in short, he was princely in his expenditure of his private fortune on whatever he undertook to perform, whether in war or in peace. It was thus he spent, lent, and lost for his King and country £918,000. He particularly notices that he laid out on buildings and experiments at Vauxhall, the sum of £59,000. But these items are far from representing his actual expenditure, although they indicate the scale of his operations; and taken at their value two centuries back such sums manifest marvellous munificence.

We have no certain key to any of his inventions, if we except two specimens of his cipher writing. One exists in the British Museum,[3] and there is a deciphered letter in the Bodleian Library, Oxford.[4]

His noblest invention, that which must for ever embalm his memory in the breasts not alone of Englishmen, but of all classes throughout the civilized world, was in operation at Vauxhall from 1663 to 1667, during his life time, and appears to have been working as late as 1670. It was ordered by the Act granted him, "that a model thereof be delivered to the Lord Treasurer or Commissioners for the Treasury for the time being, at or before the 29th of September, 1663; and to be put into the Exchequer, and kept there." And in the 98th article of the "Century," alluding to this same engine he says—"I call this a semi-omnipotent engine, and do intend that a model thereof be buried with me." Yet, strange to say, neither the one model nor the other, although zealously searched for, has come to light: and so little attention did this invention, notwithstanding its surprising utility, excite in the 17th century, that all the account we have of it, besides that by the inventor himself, is the briefest possible notice given by two foreign travellers, Sorbière in 1663-4, and Cosmo the third, Grand Duke of Tuscany, in 1669. It is satisfactorily ascertained, however, that upwards of seventeen persons, all living in 1663, were more or less acquainted with the Marquis's mechanical operations at Vauxhall, and must have seen the great water-engine at work, if only as a novelty, and a matter of curiosity.

Returning to the "Century of Inventions," we find it to be a journal of the fruits of its noble author's study of mechanical philosophy for nearly forty years, so that in it we may almost trace the youth and age of his mental capacity. Viewed through a modern medium we might feel disposed to discredit the genius of a man who could contrive so many curious alphabets for secret writing as those he mentions, but such systems were extensively practised in political and private correspondence during the Civil war period to baffle the curiosity of political opponents. What may be called mechanical tricks were also much in vogue, such as singing and flying birds, artificial figures and horses, and curiously contrived watches, cabinets, locks, and keys. Unless we bear in mind the taste of the age, we shall read with surprise such an announcement as the following, in the 88th article in the "Century":—

"How to make a brazen or stone head, in the midst of a great field or garden, so artificial and natural, that though a man speak never so softly and even whispers into the ear thereof, it will presently open its mouth, and resolve the question in French, Latin, Welsh,