ds labouring at reasons for
his emphatic judgments.

Always true to his role of the average man, Pepys suffers his mind to
be swayed by barely relevant accidents. His thought is rarely free
from official or domestic business, and the heaviness or lightness of
his personal cares commonly colours his playhouse impressions. His
praises and his censures of a piece often reflect, too, the physical
comforts or discomforts which attach to his seat in the theatre. He is
peculiarly sensitive to petty annoyances--to the agony of sitting in a
draught, or to the irritation caused by frivolous talk in his near
neighbourhood while a serious play is in progress. On one occasion,
when he sought to practise a praiseworthy economy by taking a back
seat in the shilling gallery, his evening's enjoyment was well-nigh
spoiled by finding the gaze of four clerks in his office steadily
directed upon him from more expensive seats down below. On another
occasion, when in the pit with his wife and her waiting-woman, he was
overcome by a sense of shame as he realised how shabbily his
companions were dressed, in comparison with the smartly-attired ladies
round about them.

Everyone knows how susceptible Pepys was in all situations of life to
female charms. It was inevitable that his wits should often wander
from the dramatic theme and its scenic presentation to the features of
some woman on the stage or in the auditory. An actress's pretty face
or graceful figure many times diverted his attention from her
professional incompetence. It is doubtful if there were any affront
which Pepys would not pardon in a pretty woman. Once when he was in
the pit, this curious experience befell him. "I sitting behind in a
dark place," he writes, "a lady spit backward upon me by mistake, not
seeing me; but after seeing her to be a very pretty lady, I was not
troubled at it at all." The volatile diarist studied much besides the
drama when he spent his afternoon or evening at the play.

Never was there a more indefatigable playgoer than Pepys. Yet his
enthusiasm for the theatre was, to his mind, a failing which required
most careful watching. He feared that the passion might do injury to
his purse, might distract him from serious business, might lead him
into temptation of the flesh. He had a little of the Puritan's dread
of the playhouse. He was constantly taking vows to curb his love of
plays, which "mightily troubled his mind." He was frequently resolving
to abs