ary or the
Diary by the picture, we shall at least agree that Hales was among the
number of those who can "surprise the manners in the face." Here we have
a mouth pouting, moist with desires; eyes greedy, protuberant, and yet
apt for weeping too; a nose great alike in character and dimensions; and
altogether a most fleshy, melting countenance. The face is attractive by
its promise of reciprocity. I have used the word _greedy_, but the
reader must not suppose that he can change it for that closely kindred
one of _hungry_, for there is here no aspiration, no waiting for better
things, but an animal joy in all that comes. It could never be the face
of an artist; it is the face of a _viveur_--kindly, pleased and
pleasing, protected from excess and upheld in contentment by the
shifting versatility of his desires. For a single desire is more rightly
to be called a lust; but there is health in a variety, where one may
balance and control another.

The whole world, town or country, was to Pepys a garden of Armida.
Wherever he went, his steps were winged with the most eager expectation;
whatever he did, it was done with the most lively pleasure. An
insatiable curiosity in all the shows of the world and all the secrets
of knowledge filled him brimful of the longing to travel, and supported
him in the toils of study. Rome was the dream of his life; he was never
happier than when he read or talked of the Eternal City. When he was in
Holland he was "with child" to see any strange thing. Meeting some
friends and singing with them in a palace near the Hague, his pen fails
him to express his passion of delight, "the more so because in a heaven
of pleasure and in a strange country." He must go to see all famous
executions. He must needs visit the body of a murdered man, defaced
"with a broad wound," he says, "that makes my hand now shake to write of
it." He learned to dance, and was "like to make a dancer." He learned to
sing, and walked about Gray's Inn Fields "humming to myself (which is
now my constant practice) the trillo." He learned to play the lute, the
flute, the flageolet, and the theorbo, and it was not the fault of his
intention if he did not learn the harpsichord or the spinet. He learned
to compose songs, and burned to give forth "a scheme and theory of music
not yet ever made in the world." When he heard "a fellow whistle like a
bird exceeding well," he promised to return another day and give an
angel for a lesson in the a