Page 1839 - les-miserables

of the morning on the crests of hills, when I see the drops
of dew, those mock pearls, when I see the frost, that paste,
when I see humanity ripped apart and events patched up,
and so many spots on the sun and so many holes in the
moon, when I see so much misery everywhere, I suspect
that God is not rich. The appearance exists, it is true, but I
feel that he is hard up. He gives a revolution as a tradesman
whose money-box is empty gives a ball. God must not be
judged from appearances. Beneath the gilding of heaven I
perceive a poverty-stricken universe. Creation is bankrupt.
That is why I am discontented. Here it is the 4th of June, it
is almost night; ever since this morning I have been waiting
for daylight to come; it has not come, and I bet that it won’t
come all day. This is the inexactness of an ill-paid clerk. Yes,
everything is badly arranged, nothing fits anything else,
this old world is all warped, I take my stand on the opposi-
tion, everything goes awry; the universe is a tease. It’s like
children, those who want them have none, and those who
don’t want them have them. Total: I’m vexed. Besides, Laigle
de Meaux, that bald-head, offends my sight. It humiliates
me to think that I am of the same age as that baldy. How-
ever, I criticise, but I do not insult. The universe is what it is.
I speak here without evil intent and to ease my conscience.
Receive, Eternal Father, the assurance of my distinguished
consideration. Ah! by all the saints of Olympus and by all
the gods of paradise, I was not intended to be a Parisian,
that is to say, to rebound forever, like a shuttlecock be-
tween two battledores, from the group of the loungers to
the group of the roysterers. I was made to be a Turk, watch-

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