s in judgment, and how many fools, like me, fancy
themselves great, when they stand on tiptoe, and find fault even with
the works of God! 'The world is evil,' says the philosopher, and whoever
listens to him, probably thinks carelessly: 'Hear, hear! He would have
made it better than our Father in heaven.' Let me have my pleasure. I'm
only a little man, but I deal in great things. To criticise a single
insignificant human creature, seems to me scarcely worth while, but when
we pronounce judgment on all humanity and the boundless universe, we can
open our mouths-wonderfully wide!"

Once his heart had been filled with love for a beautiful girl, but
she had scornfully rejected his suit and married another. When she was
widowed, and he found her in dire poverty, he helped her with a large
share of his savings, and performed this kind service again, when the
second worthless fellow she married had squandered her last penny.

His life was rich in similar incidents.

In his actions, the queer little man obeyed the dictates of his heart;
in his speech, his head ruled his tongue, and this seemed to him the
only sensible course. To practise unselfish generosity he regarded as a
subtle, exquisite pleasure, which he ventured to allow himself, because
he desired nothing more; others, to whom he did not grudge a prosperous
career, he must warn against such folly.

There was a keen, bitter expression on his large, thin face, and whoever
saw him for the first time might easily have supposed him to be a
wicked, spiteful man. He knew this, and delighted in frightening the
men and maid-servants at the taverns by hideous grimaces--he boasted of
being able to make ninety-five different faces--until the artist's old
valet at last dreaded him like the "Evil One."

He was particularly gay in Avignon, for he felt better than he had done
for a long time, and ordered a seat to be engaged for him in a vehicle
going to Marseilles.

The evening before their separation, he described with sparkling
vivacity, the charms of the Ligurian coast, and spoke of the future as
if he were sure of entire recovery and a long life.

In the night Ulrich heard him groaning louder than usual, and starting
up, raised him, as he was in the habit of doing when the poor little man
was tortured by difficulty of breathing. But this time Pellicanus did
not swear and scold, but remained perfectly still, and when his heavy
head fell like a pumpkin on the boy's breast, h