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 régale," 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 sure of their courage, endurance, and virtue, whatever misfortunes or temptations might assail them in this life. One felt this especially with the youngest but one, Marty, who, with even more than her due share of those gifts of the head and heart they had all inherited from their two parents, had not inherited their splendid frames and invincible health. Roderick, _alias_ Mark Tapley, _alias_ Chips, who is now the sailor, was, oddly enough, the strongest and the hardiest of the whole family, and yet he was born two years after Marty. She always declared she brought him up and made a man of him, and taught him how to throw stones, and how to row and ride and swim; and that it was entirely to her he owed it that he was worthy to be a sailor--her ideal profession for a man.