of suffering. She was violent,
threatening him with the tongs; she was careless of his honour, driving
him to insult the mistress whom she had driven him to betray and to
discard; worst of all, she was hopelessly inconsequent in word and
thought and deed, now lulling him with reconciliations, and anon flaming
forth again with the original anger. Pepys had not used his wife well;
he had wearied her with jealousies, even while himself unfaithful; he
had grudged her clothes and pleasures, while lavishing both upon
himself; he had abused her in words; he had bent his fist at her in
anger; he had once blacked her eye; and it is one of the oddest
particulars in that odd Diary of his, that, while the injury is referred
to once in passing, there is no hint as to the occasion or the manner of
the blow. But now, when he is in the wrong, nothing can exceed the
long-suffering affection of this impatient husband. While he was still
sinning and still undiscovered, he seems not to have known a touch of
penitence stronger than what might lead him to take his wife to the
theatre, or for an airing, or to give her a new dress by way of
compensation. Once found out, however, and he seems to himself to have
lost all claim to decent usage. It is perhaps the strongest instance of
his externality. His wife may do what she pleases, and though he may
groan, it will never occur to him to blame her; he has no weapon left
but tears and the most abject submission. We should perhaps have
respected him more had he not given way so utterly--above all, had he
refused to write, under his wife's dictation, an insulting letter to his
unhappy fellow-culprit, Miss Willet; but somehow I believe we like him
better as he was.

The death of his wife, following so shortly after, must have stamped the
impression of this episode upon his mind. For the remaining years of his
long life we have no Diary to help us, and we have seen already how
little stress is to be laid upon the tenor of his correspondence; but
what with the recollection of the catastrophe of his married life, what
with the natural influence of his advancing years and reputation, it
seems not unlikely that the period of gallantry was at an end for Pepys;
and it is beyond a doubt that he sat down at last to an honoured and
agreeable old age among his books and music, the correspondent of Sir
Isaac Newton, and, in one instance at least, the poetical counsellor of
Dryden. Through all this period, that