lse in the
world, and he always took great pains, and delighted in taking them;
but himself he never took seriously for one moment--never realized
what happiness he gave, and was quite unconscious of the true value
of all he thought and wrought and taught!

He laughed good-humoredly at the passionate praise that for thirty
years was poured upon him from all quarters of the globe, and
shrugged his shoulders at the coarse invective of those whose
religious susceptibilities he had so innocently wounded; left all
published insults unanswered; never noticed any lie printed about
himself--never wrote a paragraph in explanation or self-defence, but
smoked many pipes and mildly wondered.

Indeed he was mildly wondering all his life: at his luck--at all the
ease and success and warm domestic bliss that had so compensated him
for the loss of his left eye and would almost have compensated him
for the loss of both.

"It's all because I'm so deuced good-looking!" says Barty--"and so's
Leah!"

And all his life he sorrowed for those who were less fortunate than
himself. His charities and those of his wife were immense--he gave
all the money, and she took all the trouble.

"C'est papa qui paie et maman qui regale," as Marty would say; and
never were funds distributed more wisely.

But often at odd moments the Weltschmerz, the sorrow of the world,
would pierce this man who no longer felt sorrows of his own--stab
him through and through--bring the sweat to his temples--fill his
eyes with that strange pity and trouble that moved you so deeply
when you caught the look; and soon the complicated anguish of that
dim regard would resolve itself into gleams of a quite celestial
sweetness--and a heavenly message would go forth to mankind in such
simple words that all might read who ran....

All these endowments of the heart and brain, which in him were
masculine and active, were possessed in a passive form by his wife;
instead of the buoyant energy and boisterous high spirits, she had
patience and persistency that one felt to be indomitable, and a
silent sympathy that never failed, and a fund of cheerfulness and
good sense on which any call might be made by life without fear of
bankruptcy; she was of those who could play a losing game and help
others to play it--and she never had a losing game to play!

These gifts were inherited by their children, who, more-over, were
so fed on their father's books--so imbued with them--that one felt