UC-NRLF B 3 aeb ^sb t- ■JL.: - - ■ ,t • :» t ; • '- * ■ t. ' ■ ' HI- .1.1 IL..- .^ THE ATHENy^UM PRESS SERIES G. L. KITTREDGE and C. T. WINCHESTER GENERAL EDITORS Scries Bunounccincnt 1 iiK "Athena-um Press Series" includes the choicest works of Eng- lish literature in editions carefully prepared fur the use of schools, col- leges, libraries, and the general reader. Each volume is edited by some scholar who has made a special study of an author and his period. The Introductions are biographical and critical. In particular they set forth the relation of the authors to their times and indicate their impor- tance in the development of litera- ture. A liibliography and Notes accompany each volume. Htbena:um iPresa levies CARLYLE Sartor Resartus EDITED BY ARCHIBALD MacMECHAN George Munro Professor of English Language and Literature in Dalhousie College Of THE UNIVERSITY GINN & COMPANY BOSTON • NEW YORK • CHICAGO ■ LONDON s 3-l>X>i**Ki/AV Stationers' Hall Copyright. iV/S. rv GINN & COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RBSBRVBD 35-9 fl *- -* ^» Cfat atbtngu m $ r t « f I. INN .V Com PA NY • PRO- TKILTORS • UiiSTON • L'.S.A. TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON AS A MARK OF ADMIRATION FOR HIS CHARACTER AS A MAN OF LETTERS AND HIS DEFENSE OF CARLYLE'S MEMORY -,r^.y iDicin 3 fession, trade, oi means of livelihood. As a student, i had done hack urticles for Brewster's Edinburgh Ejicydt pcedia^ and now he turned to literature in the hope of earn- ing his bread. I;i the years oi his tutorship he had studied German and translated Goethe's Wilhelm Meister. A copy sent to the autho-l won the great man's regard. The work brought him in ^'80 and encouraged him to proceed. For two years he supp >rted himself by his translations from the German and his articles on German literature. But his youth was slippi.);:; away. He was known only to a small circle as an eccentric and impracticable man of gen'':., which by no incAUs accorded with his vast ambition. He suffered constantly from a painful but not dangerous disease. He was at war with himself, as his journals testify. At this time he married. His friendship vvith Irving had paved the way for another and closer relationship. When Irving was master in Haddington Acade^my, he became deeply interested in Jane Baillie Welsh, the beautiful and clever daughter of a country surgeon of good :^amily and sterling character. He wss fresh from college and she was a mere child. His positi.n as her tutor in her father's house favored the growth of inti- macy, though n sit her of them seems to have known the reil state of their feelings for each other. From Fladdingcon Irving went to Kifkcaldy and there drifted into an engage- inister's daughter, Miss Isabella Martin, e found that he had mistaken h's feelings len. To his betrothed wife he was indif- quondam pupil who had his heart. He tried to free himsdlf from his entanglement ; but the Martins held him to his plighted word, and Jane Welsh, though she returned his love passionately, would not listen to him as long IS his engag' ment lasted. The affair ended in ^rvin- s ment with the m As time went on, Y tov/ards both won ferent ; it was his INTRODUCTION. .. ^3 wic^.-ij-^e with the woman to w' > .. .,c was bound i i nor, to the ruin of his own tiappineijs and that of tb : v.. Jinan he loved. At first Carlyle's relation to the throe wa' ejiat of I le friend, or mere bystander. H«> did not know th. n il ^ii'* of the case till shortly befpre his marriage. I.. 1.S21, <-■'. a visit to Haddington with living, Carlyle mt liis future wife. With her keen insight, she soon divined h; genius: but she was repelled by his rusti<; manners, and th rough strength of his character. Their first stt-p towarr intimacy was a literary currespoL^lence \ liich seems to ha^ ^ been curied on without any great break from their tii meetii.^ lill their marriage. Miss Welsh was ambitious, ai i with Cailylo she had far more in common than with Irvii ^ The story of their courtship has never been given to 1 ' world; but Mr. iTOude has told us that there were rubb im its course. One episode was the interference of a frie t'', and another a lover's quarrel which almost ended in a i.^\\ estrangement. The "taming of the mockmg-bird" took t -.e. jiefore he met Miss Welsh, Carlyle had been drawn least one woman; and it may be said without fear of c :itra- '•vMion that he could not possibly have made any woman ^appy, Still, there can be no doubt tha.t he loved his wife with all the intensity of his fervid nature^ The loss of her li. the crowning moment t)f his life left >nm a broken man, and gave to our literature the record of u remorse as deep and heart-shaking as Lear's last agony over Cordelia. No merely imagined tragedy is darker than the true tale of his unwitting offence, the dramatic conjunction of his greatest triumph with his greatest loss, and his finding no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully! with tears. \ first, however, in spite of their rjiarrow mt ivis and ancenain prospects, the skies were fair. The first year )f married life^ was spent in Edinburgh, in \\ comfortable, well- ' I hty weremarii' * ''■ niplmd on Octf/ber 17th, 1S26. INTR OD UC TION. xvli furnished house, with a certain amount of society; and then from motives of economy, they removed to Craigenputtoch, a property of Mrs. Carlyle's in the wilds of Dumfries. Carlyle had hoped that marriage would work some sweeping change in his health and spirits ; but in this he was disappointed, as he was in the hope of various university chairs at St. Andrews, Edinburgh, and London. In a mood almost of despair, he settled down in his " Dunscore Patmos " to read and meditate and write and make a way for himself in literature. At Comley Bank, his Edinburgh residence, he had begun a novel which he threw aside at the seventh chapter. The acceptance of an occasional article kept the .wolf from the door; and from time to time, their friends supplied them with various necessaries of life. Carlyle spent his day in his study, or wandered solitary over the moors afoot or on horseback. His young wife slaved at the housekeeping, lonelier than he. An occasional visitor broke the gray monotony of their lives ; but no two people in Britain lived more retired. Crusoe, on the Island of Deso- lation, was hardly more completely shut out from his kind. In the journal, that refuge of the lonely and impulsive, Carlyle found a vent for his surcharged heart; and in 1829 resumed irregular entries in a book he had already used for the same purpose. The death of his sister Margaret in June, 1830, doubtless set his mind powerfully at work. "Often I think of many solemn and sad things which, indeed, I do not wish to forget," ^ he writes his mother in this year. The month of September was particularly rich in the harvest of thought. About the 12th, he notes: "I am going to write Nonsense. It is on ' Clothes.' Heaven be my comforter." On October 19th, he writes to his brother: "For myself here I am leading the stillest life; musing amid the pale sunshine, or rude winds of October Tirl-the- 1 Lett., 172. jjviii INTRODUCTION. trees, when I go walking in this almost ghastly solitude; and for the rest, writing with impetuosity. . . . What I am writing at is the strangest of all things: begun as an Article for J'raser; then found to be too long (except it were divided into two); now sometimes looking almost as if it would swell into a Hook. A very singular piece, 1 assure you! It glances from Heaven to Karth and back again in a strange satirical frenzy; whethery?//^ or not remains to be seen. . . . " Teufflsdreck (that is the title of my present Schrift) will be done (so far — fifty pages) to-morrow.'" Ten days later he is able to record its completion. The article in this form was sent soon after to Fraser, but not accepted, perhaps not even read; for by February, 1S31, C'arlyle has his "long paper entitled Thouglits on Clothes'' back and is busy recasting and expanding it into book form. " I can devise," he writes his brother John, " some more biography for Teufelsdreck ; give a second deeper part, in the same vein, leading through Religion and the nature of Society, and Lord knows what. Nay, that very * Thoughts,' slightly altered would itself make a little volume first."'* This would seem to show that Book I of Sartor is the original " long paper," that the devising of " more biography" resulted in Book II, and the "second deeper part in the same vein " is Book III, From February till the end of July^ he is busy with the book, and by August 4th he is able to start for London with the completed manuscript. But the booksellers would have none of it, and after hawking it about among the leading publishers for some six weeks, Carlyle went home and laid the book aside for two years. Probably no changes were made in the text, in the interval, for Carlyle was now very busy with his great essays. Then, in November, 1833, ^'^^ ^^st four chapters » Lett., 173 f. 2 jbij^ ,s, ' //';./., 1 (^ I , .: ij, 2 1 J, 221. INTR on UC TION. xix were printed in Fraser. The last instalment came out in August, 1834. In January and June it did not appear. For it, the author records, he received £^2, 1 s., and fifty- eight " really readable copies of 107 pages " ^ struck off from the magazine types, which he distributed among friends north of the Tweed. Few of them were even courteous enough to acknowledge the receipt of it; and on the general reading public it made no impression, except repulsion and disgust. Mrs. Carlyle pronounced it "A work of genius, dear." But she was almost alone in her opinion. Father O'Shea in Cork, and Emerson in Concord, were apparently the only other persons in the world who saw anything in the book. To the American admirer belongs the honor of bring- ing out the real editio princeps anonymously in 1836 with a laudatory preface by Le Baron Russell. Though Emerson shore Sartor of the capitals wherein his heart delighted, he made a good bargain with the publishers, and saw that Carlyle received every dollar of his dues.^ The first Eng- lish edition did not appear till two years later, and a third was not needed for more than another decade. Before Carlyle's death, a popular edition of 30,000 copies had been printed and sold. The text was very correctly printed in Fraser ; and between the first form of the book and the last, only the fewest changes have been made. The present edition reproduces the text of 1874, with a few corrections which are indicated in the notes. II. " The first genesis of Sartor I remember well enough and the very spot (at Templand) where the notion of astonish- ment at Clothes first struck me," ^ is Carlyle's own account 1 Lett., 442. 2 See Correspondence of Carlyle and Emerson, I, 86, 98, 122, 131. Boston, 1886. ^ Rem., II, 190. jm INTRODUCTION. of how the book originated ; but this moment of illumination is plainly a case of unconscious memory. The germ idea, as has been often pointed out, is contained in tbe 2'ale of a Tub. That Carlyle knew Swift familiarly is indisputable. To his college friends he was known as " Jonathan " and *'the Dean," as much from his known liking for Swift's writinsrs as his natural satiric bent; and he recommends the Tale of a Tul\ by name, to his brother John. To put the matter beyond the shadow of a doubt, Carlyle himself refers, in Sartor, to Swift and the passage quoted below.^ "The worshippers of this deity had also a system of their belief which seemed to turn upon the following fundamental. They held the universe to be a large suit of clothes which invests everything ; that the earth is invested by the air : the air is invested by the stars : and the stars are invested by the Trim urn Mobile. Look on this globe of earth, and you will find it to be a very complete and fashion- able dress. What is that which some call land but a fine coat faced with green, or the sea but a waistcoat of water- tabby ? Proceed to the various works of the creation, you will find how curious journeyman Nature hath been to trim up the vegetable beaux ; observe how sparkish a periwig adorns the head of a beech, and what a fine doublet of white satin is worn by the birch. To conclude from all, what is man himself but a microcoat, or rather a complete suit of clothes with all the trimmings ? As to the body there can be no dispute, but examine even the acquirements of his mind, you will find them all contribute in their order towards furnishing out an exact dress. To instance no more, is not religion a cloak, honesty a pair of shoes worn out in the dirt, self-love a surtout, vanity a shirt, and conscience a pair of breeches ? " ^ (I omit the drastic Swiftian conclusion which must have found favor in the 1 i:k. m, cap xi. 2 Tale of a Tub, Sect, III, IN TROD UC TION. xxi eyes of the man who wrote Count Zaehdarm's epitaph.) Here undoubtedly is the seed thought which lay chance- sown so long in Carlyle's mind that he had forgotten its existence and when it sprang up and bore fruit a hundred- fold, imagined it to be some spontaneous, self-derived tilth. While this is admitted, there is between the passage in Swift and the completed Sartor all the difference between the bushel of seed-corn and the bursting garner. The seed fell in rich soil and it was most assiduously cultivated. A very large part of the book owes nothing at all to Swift. In the second^.portion, the story of Teufelsdrockh's life, his clothes- philosophy sinks out of sight altogether; and such chapters as the fifth and eighth of the third book are too weighty and earnest to be really part and parcel of what was in the first instance a jest. The influence of Swift's thought is strongest in the first or original portion. The rest is really made up of Carlyle's own experience of life, and his brood- ing over all problems that can engage the active brain, from the reality of the universe and the existence of God to the condition of the poor and the phenomenon of the man of fashion. The book is to be regarded as the epitome of all that Carlyle thought and felt in the course of the first thirty- five years of his residence on this planet. Many things which he wishes to say that cannot be ranged under any rubric of the philosophy of clothes, such as his criticism of duelling, are, notwithstanding, given room. This position 1 hope to make good. Such an explanation of Sartor as Mr. Larkin's ^ must be regarded as an exercise of pure fancy, in a line with the old-fashioned allegorical expositions of Scripture, like Dr. Alabaster's sermon on Adam, Sheth, Enosh. If, instead of assuming the book to be an enigma, we simply examine the 1 Henry Larkin, Carlyle and the Open Secret of his Life, caps. i-iv. Lond., 1886. xxii INTRODUCTION. process l)y which it grew, light breaks upon us, and its significance becomes unmistakable. The sources of it can be demonstrated to be fourfold. The first in importance is the journal which Carlyle kept at Craigenputtoch from 1828 to 1830. Kxtracts from this have been printed with -rotes(|ue inaccuracy by Mr. Froude in his Carlylcs Early l.ifi\ and can be consulted there. A much safer authority is a MS. copy in the possession of Professor Norton, which he kindly allowed me to use. The second source is C'arlyle's novel Wotton Keinfred, which never got beyond the seventh chapter. From this not only were many long passages transferred bodily to Sarfor, but also the main outlines of the love-story in Book Second. His essays form the third source, notably the Signs of the Tit?ies} Character- istics^ also contains much of Sartor's thought. The fourth source is his translations from the German ; and this is not a scanty stream. It is, however, of less importance than those mentioned. From Goethe he gets fundamental thought, it is true, but from Richter, Schiller, Musaeus, IMeck and Hoffmann, he takes chiefly ornamental phrases, and illustrations. All those I have discovered are indicated in the Notes. In many cases the thought is found moulded into two or three different shapes before it takes the final impress of Carlyle's signet in Sartor^ His use of his mate- rial is characteristically "canny." No good thing is- allowed to pass unused, nothing is wasted, and many places show the labor of the file. Often his borrowings were simply held in his wonderful memory and set down unwittingly; but again, the process was distinctly conscious. Long extracts are copied word for word from Wotton Rcififred, — notably the account of Teufelsdrockh's meeting with Blumine and * Edinburgh Rci'inv, Xo. 98 (1S29), and Essays, II, 135-162. * Ibid,, No. 108 (1S31), and Essays, III, 5-49. * See I, 19. n. and /j/jj/w. INTRODUCTION. xxiii Towgood on their wedding-journey. In this case the ' patching is clumsy. Teufelsdrockh cannot ride up the mountain-road which is still practicable for a barouche-and- four. And why should the wedding-party be bound south for England .? The passage fits into its context in Wottou Reififred, but torn from it only shows the author's haste and that the end forgot the beginning. Carlyle's task from February to August in 1831 was drawing into the compass of a single volume all the best that he had thought in his past life. III. The statement made by Carlyle that nothing in Sartor is true, " symbolical myth all," has been repeated by Mr. Froude ^ and other biographers, in spite of the fact that Carlyle contradicts himself. The only fact he admits as biographical is the famous episode in the Rue St. Thomas de I'Enfer, otherwise. Leith Walk ; but in the same work Carlyle confesses to various other facts which are more than '' symbolical," such as his first day at school.^ Indeed, even brief and limited research makes it clear that a very large meaning must be attached to the term, " symbolical myth," and I do not hesitate to say that the title " Life and Opinions of Diogenes Teufelsdrockh " is simply the usual innocent device of authors to avoid taking the public openly into their confidence, when their books are of an intimate and personal character, like Mrs. Browning's " Sonnets from the Portuguese." This has, heretofore, been generally sus- pected; it can now be clearly proven. Sartor is not only the epitome of all that Carlyle had thought; it contains the fine essence of all that he had felt. The first draft of Sartor was the novel Wotton Reinfrcd. This was begun in January, 1827, in the first months of 1 C. E. Z., I, 103. 2 Rem., I, 46. xxiv INTRODUCTION. Carlyle's wedded life, iind finally thrown aside about June 4th of the same year. His letters ^ of this time show how hard he worked at it, and what an interest Mrs. Carlyle took in it. The statement that it was given wholly to the tiames cannot be correct, for it has been since published. While it is not interesting in itself, it is of the utmost importance for the student of Sartor and of Carlyle's literary methods. This will be plain from a glance at its contents. The book con- sists of seven chapters, which are carefully finished and readv for the press. The hero is a young man of morose temperament who has been crossed in love. The object of his devotion, Jane Montagu, has been carried off by. a "tiger-ape" of an Indian officer: and the unhappy lover is plunged into the deepest despair. In the first chapter his friend is trying to bring him to reason, and prescribes a visit to a certain physician of souls, called Moseley. The second chapter gives Wotton's history to the time of his unfortunate love-affair. He has been brought up in a secluded part of the country by his mother, a truly religious woman. At school he is bullied by the other boys and nicknamed " weeping Wotton," till he thrashes one of his tormentors. The death of a little sister makes a deep impression upon his shy, sensitive nature, and increases his natural tendency to sadness. In due course, he attends the university in a distant city, where he reads much, especially mathematics. He finds his fellow-collegians uncongenial, and repels all advances by his reserved and sarcastic manner. There is also little in the universitv system of discipline and instruction for him to admire. Thrown back thus upon himself, he thinks much on the fundamental problems of life, studies the skeptical writers of modern France, and begins to doubt the creed in which he has been brought up. He ends in blank unbelief, and something 1 Lett., 20. --3. 3-, 45 f. INTRODUCTION. xxv very like despair. In this mood he quits the university and for a short time studies law. Disgusted with the technicali- ties of the subject, he abandons it and retires to the country. Near him lives the single friend he made at college, Bernard Swane, the " perfect opposite " of himself. Famil- iar intercourse with a man of Bernard's frank, hopeful nature keeps Wotton back from madness and utter despair. On a visit to Bernard, one morning, he meets a young beauty, called Jane Montagu : and the occasion is described at some length. One notable detail is the suppression of a " Philistine " by means of Wotton's adroit questionings. The youth and maiden fall in love with each other, and all goes well till an ancient maiden aunt interferes. There is a tearful final interview and they separate. Report says that Jane is to marry Edmund Waller, a young, well-connected, wealthy officer, whom Wotton holds to be a mere libertine. For some unexplained reason, this marriage does not take place ; but his disappointment makes Wotton ten times more gloomy than before. He looks forward to death as the relief from all evils. Chapter Three is short. Bernard and Wotton set out upon their rather ill-defined journey to Moseley. The scenery they pass through is distinctly Scottish. At their first inn, the waiters bring Wotton a locket containing a miniature which has been found in the mountains. The portrait shows an unmistakable likeness to himself. Though he knows that he has never sat for his picture, he takes the locket with him, leaving a few guineas as a guarantee, and his address in case any one with a better right should lay claim to it. His half-untold fancy is that it may have belonged to his lost love. On the next day, the two friends proceed on their journey, and meet a mysterious stranger. His name is Maurice Herbert, and he condugts the travellers to his mansion, the xxvi IXTRODUCTION House of llic Wold, such a convenient, emblematic castle as Wilhclm Meister strays into during his strange appren- ticeship. Here is met a company of scholars and philos- ophers, who reason after dinner, like Milton's fiends, on the eternal riddles of life. The chief significance of the discus- sion lies in the importation into it of Kantian philosophy, which the rest regard as they might a rabid dog. After this symposium, the only other events worth noting are an encounter between the rivals, Reinfred and Waller, and, later a meeting between Reinfred and Jane Montagu. With a long-winded explanation of the latter's mysterious conduct, the seventh chapter ends. The rest is silence. Now, the points of resemblance between these three personages, C^arlyle, Reinfred and Teufelsdrockh, both in character and career, are too close to be the result of mere chance. As boys, all three are shy, sensitive, easily reduced to tears and have been trained to religion by a pious mother. At school they are bullied, at the university they are ill-taught. Among a crowd of uncongenial mates they each find only one true friend : Carlyle has his Irving ; Reinfred, Swane; and Teufelsdrockh, Towgood. As they reach manhood, all three part company with the creed of their childhood; and in each case the loss increases the natural tendency to sarcasm and misanthropic gloom. After leaving the university all three study law for a time and give it up in disgust. The two heroes of fiction have unhappy love-affairs which darken tenfold their former gloom. Whether this is true or not of Carlyle is a question still to be settled. Carlvle and Teufelsdrockh wrestle throug^h the storm into calm : and though Wotton Rcififred is not com- pleted, even there it is clear that the way is being paved for the happiness of the star-crossed lovers. In some points, the resemblance between the hero of the Hemiuiscefices and Wotton is closer than between Carlyle and Teufelsdrockh. INTRODUCTION. xxvii riie first little Janet Carlyle,^ died at the age of three ; from Wotton, "death had snatched away" "a little elder sister" " before he knew what the King of Terrors was." ^ A beau- tiful girl, in whom Carlyle undoubtedly was interested, did marry an Indian officer.^ Throughout Wotton Rei7ifred^ the scenery, atmosphere and circumstances are those with which Carlyle was familiar, that is to say, Scottish. On the other hand, though Reinfred does not, both Carlyle and Teufelsdrockh teach private pupils and "subsist by the faculty of translation " after leaving college. These are the broad outlines of resemblance between the personal history of the writer and the careers of his two puppets or literary doubles. Other minute resemblances are traced carefully in the notes to Book Two. When this detailed evidence is considered in its mass, and taken with Carlyle's zeal for*( truth and his hatred of fiction, as well as the fact that a writer's personal experience generally forms the basis of his first novel, it will, I think, be hard to resist the conclu- sion that Wotton Reinfred and Diogenes Teufelsdrockh are simple aliases of Thomas Carlyle. IV. Su ni^y is not the adjective one would select as most aptly describing tfie" temper of any of Carlyle's works; and yet there is in Sartor a certain^race, which the mind recognizes and rejoices in as the senses recognize and rejoice in the return of light and warmth in spring. In virtue of this peculiar charm, found nowhere else so frequent or so strong 1 Two of Carlyle's sisters were christened Janet. C E. Z., I, 9; E. lett., ix. 2 X. W. C, 25. 3 Carlyle calls him an "idle Ex-Captain of Sepoys," Rem., II, 125. Mr. Strachey says he belonged to the 7th Hussars, Lord Anglesea's crack regiment. Nineteenth Century, .Sept., 1892. xxviii INTRODUCTION. in all his writings, the book constitutes a class by itself. Nor is it hard to account for the difference. Sartor was Carlyle's first and only entirely creatj^e work. In fashion- ing it he felt the joy of the'TrtTst in seeing thefhought of his brain taking shape under his hands, the joy of the painter as the face of the Madonna grows out of the blank canvas, the joy of the sculptor as the sun god emerges from the marble. The speed at which he worked attests this, as well as the significant absence of those unutterable groanings which waited on the building of his great histories. Again, Carlyle had not at this time parted with his mother's faith. True, he told Irving that he did not think of the Christian religion as his friend did ; that is, as befitted a professed minister of that religion ; but, on the other hand, a Scotch- man of Carlyle's sincerity who takes sittings in the kirk and holds family worship ^ cannot be considered as in a state of violent revolt against his inherited creed. Again, he had at this time, love. He had but lately married a beautiful and brilliant woman, without whom, in spite of all the unhappi- ness he caused and suffered, his life would not have been complete. The composition of Sartor marks the beginning of that time of which he was to write as a lonely gray- haired man the saddest words that surely ever blotted paper : " I was rich once, had I known it, very rich ; and now, I am become poor unto the end." Again, he had at this time hope. He had not yet lost all expectation of human virtue and courage and wisdom. He had not yet conceived the world as a ship of fools, driving without a helm, in a black night of storm to certain wreck. There is gloom in Sartor, but it is pierced by lightnings and flooded with bursts of the upper Jjjoryj^ and there are serene, sunlit spaceS'rnto wHTcTT tHe clouds do not intrude. For in spite of disappointment and poverty and suffering in body and mind, 1 I.rff., V INTRODUCTION. xxix Carlyle still possessed in large measure the things which go to make life full and sweet, — joy^of his taskj.fajthj,J^pve, hope ; and all these influenGes-j&«^-vQiCg^Jn_his book. There is one more element in the undeniable charm of Sartor yQt to be considered. Let us fofX moment imagine a Sartor consisting of the first and third books only. We should" have '' Opinions of Herr Diogenes Teufelsdrockh " in plenty, and a very great deal of his clothes-philosophy ; but could we spare his ''Life"? In other words, if the heart of the book were torn out, the story of the " snow-and- rose-bloom maiden " Blumine, would the " Sorrows of Teu- felsdrockh" ever have aroused that widespread sympathy which Emerson assures us the world gives freely to the lover .'' It may well be doubted. Here Carlyle touches the universal heart. Teufelsdrockh, the solitary philosopher, the gloomy, misanthropical skeptic excites but moderate in- terest, and is indeed hardly intelligible. But Teufelsdrockh in love appeals to the experience or premonitions of all. Carlyle is not usually ranked with those who have spoken eloquently of the great passion, but where in our literature can we find another tale of pure devotion to a woman told so simply and so well ? That he was competent to speak on this topic, his published letters to his wife are sufficient evidence. No small part of Sartor's charm depends, upon the Blumine episode. iH'slmportant for another reason. It is strange to think that it should be the duty of Carlyle's editor to discuss his Lilis and Frederikas. But in this case it is unavoidable. Sartor is autobiographical. The close resemblance between the career of Teufelsdrockh and that of his creator has been already pointed out. The question naturally arises, " Is this central incident in Carlyle's spir- itual biography without its parallel in his actual life .? " It has, in fact, been already asked, and it might be lightly dismissed, if so many contradictory answers had not been XXX INTRODUCTION. given. As the question has been put and various answers have been given, it is necessary to review them all with due care. Who was Blumine ? Froude says positively "Margaret Gordon was the original, so far as there was an original, of IJlumine, in Sartor Resartusy * Carlyle met her in Kirk- caldy in 1817, when he was a young man of twenty-two who knew his own mind. Miss Gordon was born in Prince Edward Island,- now a province of Canada, and was con- nected with a well-known local family, the Hydes of East River. Her mother was married first to a Dr. Gordon, Margaret's father, and after his death to Dr. Guthrie. It is said that both were army surgeons, and that the latter was stationed at Halifax. In Froude's opinion, the two young people had been drawn to each other. " Two letters from her . . . show that on both sides their regard for each other had found expression." He states further that "circum- stances . . . forbade an engagement between them." The let- ter which he prints in support, though stiff and formal, certainly implies intimacy ; and the significant little postscript is confirmation strong : " I give you not my address, because I dare not promise to see you." Many years afterwards, Carlyle, an old grief-stricken man, alludes to the incident with a certain mournful tenderness. Miss Gordon was " by far the cleverest and brightest" of the "young ladies" of Kirkcaldy. She was "a kind of alien," " poorish, proud and well-bred." With her Carlyle had " some acquaintance, and it might easily have been more, had she and her Aunt and our economic and other circumstances liked." This admission is of course the basis of Froude's statement just given. "She continued," Carlyle proceeds, "for perhaps > C. E. /,., I, 52. > Carlyle says vaguely, ' born, I think, in New Brunswick,' Rem., II. 58. INTRODUCTION. xxxi some three years a figure hanging more or less in my fancy, 071 the usual romantic,'^ or latterly quite elegiac and silent terms." ^ The portraits of Margaret and her aunt are sketched here in much the same colors as in Sartor. He alludes to their leave-taking at Kirkcaldy in 1819. The very words used, " good-bye, then," have their place in his memory, and suggest the parting of Teufelsdrockh and his "flower- goddess." All this seems clear enough and points to one conclusion. The heroine's after history is stated vaguely in the Reminiscences. The two met some twenty years later on horseback at the gate in Hyde Park, " when her eyes (but that was all) said to me almost touchingly, " Yes, yes, that is you." She married Mr. (afterwards Sir) Alex. Bannerman, and accompanied him to Prince Edward Island,^ when he came out as Governor in 1850. Lady Bannerman was long remembered in the island, and it is stated that before the appearance of either the Re7niniscences or Froude's Life, she was known in the province as the original of Blumine. " Islanders " were interested in reading Sartor, because the heroine was connected with local history. If this is true, the only source of the information would be Lady Banner- man herself, for previous to 188 1, there was no printed statement to connect the famous man of letters and the wife of an obscure colonial governor. So far, then, Carlyle's testimony, documentary evidence and local tradition agree. But of late a counter claim has been put forward. When Carlyle went to London, as tutor to the young Bullers in 1824, he met a friend of the family, to whom he often alludes by the pet name " dear Kitty." Catherine Aurora Kirkpatrick was the daughter of a famous Irish sol- dier, and an Indian princess who traced her descent from the blood royal of Persia. She was an heiress and a C f 1 Italics mine. — A. M. 2 j^eni., II, 57. I 3 ^^/ Nova Scotia as usually stated. XXX ii INTRODUCTION. beauty. " A strangely-complexioned young lady, with soft, brown eyes, and rioods of bronzc-i^^S. hair, really a prett>'- looking, smiling and amiable, though most foreign bit of magnificence and kindly splendour," ^ is Carlyle's word- picture of her as he saw her first. Her character is sketched by the same master hand. " She had one of the prettiest smiles, a visible sense of humour (the slight merry curve of her upper lip, right side of it only, the carriage of her head and eyes, on such occasions, the quiet little things she said in that kind, and her low-toned hearty laugh were noticeable) ; this was perhaps her most spiritual qual- ity ; of developed intellect she had not much, though not wanting in discernment. Amiable, affectionate, graceful, might be called attractive (not sU7n enough for the title ' pretty,' not tall enough for ' beautiful ') ; had something low-voiced, languidly harmonious, placid, sensuous, loved perfumes, etc. ; a W2i\i-Bcgu7ti^ in short ; interesting speci- men of the Semi-oriental Englishwoman."- It is a pleasant picture. To all the rest, she adds the two chief charms of Lalage. Carlyle is not the only witness to her loveliness and amiable character.^ As to the relationship between them, he says without any hesitation, " It strikes me now, more than it then did," that Mrs. Strachey " could have liked to see ' dear Kitty ' and myself come together and so continue near her, both of us, through life ; the good, kind soul . . . and Kitty too, . . . might perhaps have been charmed .J* None knows.''* It seems plain, that before they met, the interest of the two young people had been excited in each other. Why else should Miss Kirkpatrick have twitched the label off his trunk as she ran up stairs tiiat night of their first meeting? and why should Carlyle 1 Rem., II, 117. 2 /^;V/^ ,23. ' Westminstir, Aug., 1S94 ; N^ineteenth Century, Sept., 1892. * Rem., II, 125. INTRODUCTION. xxxiii have noticed the girlish prank and recorded the trivial inci- dent years afterwards ? To match the rough man of genius with the beautiful, amiable heiress might well have seemed good to the friends of both. Though Carlyle was poor, and by no means a man of the world, all the women divined his power and foresaw his fame. It is clear that the young people had every opportunity for coming to an understand- ing. On one occasion they travelled with a party to Paris. They certainly were on no unfriendly footing. Was Miss Kirkpatrick, then, Blumine ? Her friends thought so. When Sartor appeared, Mrs. Strachey told her son, as stated in his article, " Carlyle and the Rose- goddess," ^ that "the story of the book is plain as a pike-staff, Teufelsdrockh is Thomas himself. The Zahdarms^ are your uncle and aunt BuUer. Toughgut^ is young Charles Buller. Philistine is Irving. The rose-garden is our garden with roses at Shooter's Hill, and the rose-goddess is Kitty." Mr. Strachey makes several minor points, such as the coin- cidence that Blumine is called " Aurora," " Heaven's Mes- senger," and that Miss Kirkpatrick was christened Catherine Aurora. He says that he has taken pains to verify and establish his facts ; and that he considers Froude's hypothe- sis, as given above, untenable. Such strong statements made by those in such a good position to know, must carry great weight. But more direct testimony is forthcoming. As recently as August, 1894, a Mrs. Mercer states that she knew Miss Kirkpatrick as Mrs. Phillips, the wife of a retired officer. On a visit to her at Torquay, in 1847, Mrs, Phillips told her to read Sartor Resartus by Carlyle. Her words as quoted by Mrs. Mercer are remarkable. " Get it {Sartor) and read the " Romance." I am the heroine and every ^ Nineteenth Century, Sept., 1892, p. 474. 2 These coinages are the admiring tribute of a dyspeptic to people blessed with normal digestion. " O dura messorum ilia ! " xxxiv INTRODUCTION. word of it is true. He was then tutor to my cousin, Charles Buller, and had made no name for himself, so of course I was told that such an idea could not be thought of for a moment. What could I do with everyone against it ? Now anyone might be proud to be his wife, and he has married a woman quite beneath him." ^ The entire article is open to criticism of different kinds and must be received with caution. Ikit after making all deductions, it seems clear that Miss Kirkpatrick looked upon herself as the original of Hluminc. It is also clear that her friends so regarded her. What becomes then of Froude's theory "i Now, if it be true that Lady Bannerman was known long ago in Prince Edward Island as the heroine of Sartor, and if the Retninisccnces and the letter printed by Froude mean what they say, it is plain that Carlyle was strongly drawn to Miss Gordon. On the other hand, the testimony of Mrs. Strachey and Mrs. Mercer, again confirmed by Carlyle's own words, cannot be set aside. From them it appears that a marriage between Carlyle and Miss Kirkpatrick had been thought possible, by at least one of those most interested in the matter. Again, it is undeniable that both Margaret Gordon and Catherine Kirkpatrick resemble Biumine in character and circumstances. It does not follow that either is the original of Biumine to the exclusion of the other. Let us consider once more the genesis of Sartor. The first draft is Wotton Reinfred, a novel begun four months after Carlyle's marriage, with the knowledge, encourage- ment and cooperation of his wife. Now, such a man as Carlyle does not sit down, in his honeymoon almost, to cele- brate any woman other than his wife, with her knowledge and consent. Again, it has been pointed out, that many traits of Biumine are common to Jane Montagu, the heroine of ^ Carlyle and the" IUumi>te"\if S.nt.n Resartus, Wesimitister Kez'iew, Aug., 1894, pp. 164 f. INTR on UC TION. xxx v Wottoft Rein/red, and to Jane Welsh. Her portrait shows a vivacious beauty, the index of her wit and spirit. Indeed, it is very easy for a special pleader to make out a strong case in her favor. The truth seems to be that while certain circumstances point to each of the three, no one can be considered as the original of Blumine to the exclusion of the other two. Carlyle was an artist in words. He needed a portrait of a heroine. He took as models the three women he knew best, as fair and amiable influences as ever came into the life of genius, and painted from them with master strokes, and in unfading colors, a picture of ideal loveli- ness. It was a true instinct which led Carlyle to " devise more biography." The brightest pages of Sartor are those irradi- ated by the presence of Bluniine, the " light-ray incarnate." Without this episode, so tender, so pathetic, the book would have little more coherence than Colton's Lacoji, and would remain a splendid chaos of weighty thoughts. Teu- felsdrockh as a person would be as vague as Sordello, and the human interest in the book utterly lacking. Blumine is fit to take her place among the Shining Ones of our litera- ture by the side of the Juliets and the Di Vernons, not only for her jDwn sake, but for the new-old ideal of love which she inspires in the hero. It needed to be restated. Felhani and Sartor were nearly contemporaries. The first was a popular success ; the other a failure. But contrast the two in their treatment of the most important relationship pos- sible between men and women. Pelham conceives of nothing higher than the conventional clubman's notion of love. In its course, a seduction is a creditable incident, and its natural conclusion is a fashionable marriage, with settle- ments. Carlyle, on the other hand, can only depict the thing he knows, the intense chivalrous affection of the unworldly man who has retained the man's natural rev- xxxvi INTKODUCTIOX. erence for the woman. Which ideal was needed most in the ""age of dandies cannot be doubted. V. When Carlylc, in the hrst six months of 183 1, recast Sartor into its tinal sliape, he was known to the world, so far as he was known at all, only as a student of German literature. He had translated Goethe's most important novel, he had published a life of Schiller. He had made Richter, Tieck, Musaeus, Hoffmann more than mere names to the Entjlish public. He was capable of appreciating the yibelufigt-nlied and of attempting to interpret the second part of Faust. He had even a history of German literature in hand, and a life of Luther in contemplation. No man in Great Britain possessed such accurate historical knowledge of German literature, or was so deeply imbued with its spirit. His admiration for the great writers of Germany was well grounded, and, in one case at least, reached the point of enthusiasm. For him Goethe had a new gospel. That his first original work, then, should bear many traces of German influence was the natural result of his long continued efforts to transplant German thought into English soil. In forming a literary judgment of Sartor, one thought must always be kept in mind, — it pretended to be German. In ilie very first chapter, the reader encounters a German professor and his book. The name of the book is given in full with a translation appended. Even such details as the name of the publishers, the place and date of publication are added, but they are discreetly allowed to remain undis- turbed in the original. The title, Die Kleider, travesties that of an actual German pamphlet presented by Goethe to Carlyle ; but it does not give its name to the book. The quaint Latin rubric which Carlyle pitched upon implies that INTRODUCTION. • xxxvii his book is secondary, derivative and based upon the German treatise. It is hardly a stretch of language to call the dis- coverer of the clothes-philosophy " tailor," or the rehabilita- tion of his theories by the '' English editor," " patching." But the title is not quite accurate. The first and third books do indeed consist ostensibly of extracts from Die Kleider^ with introductions, comments, and explanations ; but in the second book, as has been already noted, the clothes-philosophy gives place altogether to the life of the clothes-philosopher. Teufeldrockh's epoch-making work cannot be understood without more information regarding Teufelsdrockh the man. The friend who gives the informa- tion, in the famous paper-bags, is Heuschrecke, a German Rath. The guardian of Teufelsdrockh is one of the great Frederick's sergeants and lives in the village of Entepfuhl. This name is undoubtedly German, as, in its elements, is Hinterschlag, the ominous designation of the academy where the boy is educated. He passes through the " nameless " university, and after various efforts to make a way for himself in the world, falls in love with a high-born maiden bearing the German name of Blumine. It is upon the invitation, which is given in full, of a Frau Grafin that the meeting is brought about. When the lovers part, Teufelsdrockh takes up his Pilgerstab and wanders up and down the earth like the noble Moringer or Rosegger's Waldschulmeister in his stormy youth. But besides all this mere veneer of German, Carlyle goes deeper. The scenes in the Green Goose Tavern and in the littered study of the watch-tower, the portrait of Lieschen, the idyls of the hero's childhood recall the vanished Germany onTttle states and the quaint homely poetry of the life it fostered. Again, German books, with all their undoubted excel- lences, are popularly supposed to fail not seldom in lucid arrangement. Carlyle, who should give no countenance to '^"^■'" J^^'TKODUCTION. such nn idea, goes over shamelessly to the enemv Tn '-r KhtetLr-iiT' -- ^- -ii oVt::!:::: one h.se t.,re n ' ^ 1"';';' TT^ ^^^ '^-'ed into coneeivably wors • ■ , ! V ', ' ^"^^'^drockh, it is in- '" ••- -sid^^hie ':.,S^::S'^^' '^rrr' '" ^°""^-^ marked successively in .^t^cw ■ f ""^ ''^''=<'' ''"^ Six southern Zod cal s'in. h""'"'' "'"' ^^""^"'^ °f *e contenfv o " "' ^'g"s. beginning at Lihr;, " tu contents are miscellaneous masses of ^1, . ^^^ ■''iireds and Snips, written l„ r' , "'' ^"^ °ft«"« scarce legible cLn^l^ . ZITT ^-f^'^^'-'^h's "'ing^ under the Zodiac and ah ''"'''"« °^ ^1' imaginable sonal history only at rare "Jte T " '"' ^' '"'' """ P-- enigmaticmLner'-' Th " Zit' ^^^ "-" - the most •° -d"ce to order, and loathe "^""^^"f ^^-■■" -^^s P'eces together a story, meetinlwith K ""'' ^''^^''^ " ^e as would attend the eZrl ^ * '"'°"' "''^ same success -tf^ half the parts misSg "^°"'^"" ^ ^'^'-se pu.„e -tr\t;::r"cartrdo:':irf r-^-^- '-pp^-ent ^"y ngid plan in discussing eTth"/ t' '" '^ ''^' ^°"" '° "^^ "fe of its imaginary auAo „ '""^"""^ ^'^-'^^ - Pntchvvork, ample enoih to dmU V""' '' ^-'^ f- '>is -ny fragment fron, his most W ^^ '"'P "^ ■■•" ''^^^ or Commenting „po„ , fietU, o s "r''' ^'"""'"^ °^ ''f- constructing the life of it u „ ': '' °' ^'°'"-^' -"d t^H'ties he needs. By pretend ?"' '^''■'^">' "'<= oppor- -nfused, he forestalls ."to "L ■" "" """^ '^ ^--^'y ^e made on it. Further, h Tns 1 "'.' """"'" "'" "^^^^ ----'>'- ordinary der^r::--;-^ ' "^^^ I> cap. xi. I INTRODUCTION. xxxix ing his own verse into his tale. The rule is to depreciate the poetry yourself, or make your puppets run it down, depending on the reaction in the reader's mind to set the balance true. Carlyle is the last man to be tangled in a yarn of his own spinning. His plans are invariably clear ; and Sartor is no exception to the rule. The problem before Carlyle was to find a picturesque setting for the thoughts within him which were clamoring for utterance. He knew he could not write a novel ; and verse he found unmanageable. No essay could be large enough or loose enough for his purpose. But it was as an essay the book began. Apparently the stages of its growth are these. At first it is a moment of inspiration, " astonish- me nt at t he thought of clothes " ; then it is an essay " on Clothes prepared as a paper for Fraser'\- then, as an after- thought, the clothes-philosophy is fathered upon an unre- sisting German professor with a fantastic name, and the "English editor" is left free to comment upon it as he pleases. Last, the unfinished novel, IVotton Rein/red, is pressed into the service of furnishing " more biography." The completed Sartor shows Carlyle the artist. After the first startling discovery that a learned German has ex- pounded a new philosophy, the interest of the reader is excited by a series of delicate etchings in Carlyle's best manner. Teufelsdrockh, the grave, the silent, toasting the Cause of the Poor in the Green Goose Tavern, or in his attic alone with the stars, or in a rhapsody over the sleeping city, may well entice the reader on. Various short chapters, grave or gay, wise or humorous, lead up to the hiatus valdedefleiidiis, the impossibility of proceeding without more knowledge of the author's life. This very check is intended to heighten the interest. Then comes the '' Biography, a symbolic Adumbration significant to those who can decipher it," ^ in 1 See Carlyle's Index, p. 415. xl JXTRODLXTION. other words, Carlyle's Wa/uheit iind Dichtung, h:\<> Fraefenia. Here a new two-fold interest is aroused by the love idyl and the tale of spiritual struggle the strenuous age was to know so well. Here is no shadowy, unreal, feigned passion. Carl vie is writing his own story, and he writes it in letters of gold and blood. It is hard to connect Teufelsdrockh the s.ige with Teufelsdrockh the perfervid lover and desperate skeptic. The first may be a German, the latter is undoubt- edly a North Briton. Let us be thankful for both, without trying too anxiously to reconcile them. But even with the hero's self-conquest the interest is not exhausted. Like Tell, Carlyle keeps an arrow in reserve. The third book has less than the first of the clothes-philosophy, and more of Carlyle's sanest, grandest deliverances on human life, such as the incomparable chapter on Natural Supernaturalism. Though not so often abused as the style, the structure of Sartor has not escaped criticism. It is the case of the dog given a bad name. Carlyle for fun says his book is a jum- ble, and most people take him at his word. Indeed, nothing is more noticeable than the pride with which the ordinary reader, following the vain tradition of the fathers, parades his helplessness to understand Sartor. In reality, Carlyle has anticipated every objection that can be- raised to the plan, and used every mechanic art employed in the arrange- ment of written composition to make his purpose clear. The grand divisions are distinctly marked. The chapters are generally short, and are furnished with piquant and descriptive rubrics. Almost e\ery ostensible extract from Die Kleidcr is tagged with the plainest of labels. Some- times the supposed quotation is abused to arouse the reader in its defense. Again, its good qualities are unblushingly pointed out ; for part of Carlyle's whim is to praise himself. .And for the sake of the wa\-faring man, the l^ook is pro- vided throughout with admirable summaries. Allowing INTRODUCTION. xli Carlyle the privilege of speaking in his natural voice, it is hard to see what more he could have done to make his words plain and clear. Given the man and his thoughts, how else could he have put them before the public ? Two modes were open to him, the reformatory essay and the didactic novel. Arnold succeeded with the one and Kingsley with the other. Carlyle knew his limitations and still tried to combine the two methods. Sartor is a novel, — w^i!L.-^I?P.^J^^^^^^' ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^' '^^^ form is unique, but it is capable of explanation and even of defense. In pretending to be based on a specified German treatise, Sartor began life as a literary hoax. The first intention of its author was humorous. His earliest recorded words on the subject are sufficiently clear : "I am going to write — Nonsense." His method was calculated to deceive the very elect. He constructs a German book and evolves a German author for it. He gives ample quotations from the one and flows with reminiscences of the other. He is almost as generous with matter-of-fact detail as De Foe, and almost as unsmiling as Swift. The public, ignorant of German, were taken off their guard. They held a vague belief that the Germans were learned, odd, and fantastical. Sartor asserted that it was German, it was apparently learned, it was cer- tainly odd ; and so it was taken at face value. At least one person wrote, on seeing it quoted, to learn where Die Kleider could be fallen in with ; the heavy-handed refutation of the North American reviewer shows that he had been haunted by grave doubts ; while Mr. Strachey frankly confesses that he himself was for a time befooled. Such results, of course, were only possible in a time when the British public knew as little of German as they do now of Hindustani. That any one could have finished the first chapter of Sartor and not seen through the joke, is another proof that "with fit apparatus" the public is always "gullible." xlii INTRODUCTION. VI. " The symmetrical constructions of human art and thought dispersed and upset, are piled under his hands into a vast mass of shapeless ruins from the top of which he fights and gesticulates like a conquering savage." I'his vivid gro- tesque, which is worthy of Carlyle himself and would have tickled his fancy, represents Taine's impression of his style. The two counts in the indictment are : Carlyle's method of writing is chaotic, and it is barbarous. To a Frenchman born to a classic prose as lucid as his native air, the Scot's apparent scorn of all rule and precedent may well seem Vandalic. Still, the fact that a foreign critic considers Carlyle's style objectionable, does not necessarily imply a final condemnation of that style. The justice of his strict- ures must be carefully examined. But whether Taine is rfght or wrong, whether he is a competent judge of the matter or not, the fact remains that he finds Carlyle's style a rock of offense, an opinion which is shared by almost every critic and criticaster. When mention is made of Carlyle's style, it is not the I.ijc of Schiller which comes to mind, nor any one of the essays. The style recognized to be distinctively Carlyle's is the style of his French Revolution., his Latter-day Pam- phlets, his Frederick. This well-marked, unmistakable man- ner, the real Carlylese, which is to Taine anathema, appears first full-blown in Sartor. liefore this book, his style is not distinctive ; after it, he reverts onlv in a sinQ;le instance to his first manner.^ The importance, then, of investigating tills style in its earliest example must be manifest. What follows is not intended to be either a complete defense or a complete study of Carlyle's style. It is based on Sartor. ^ Life of Sterliug. But even there traces of Sartor z.X's. apparent. INTRODUCTION, xliii and the conclusions reached apply, in the first instance, to that book alone. Whether or not they may be of wider application can only be shown by similar investigations. It might be supposed that Taine had said the worst that could be said of Carlyle's style ; but other objectors run him close. Blackwood'' s description of it, " a barbarous, conceited, uncouth, and mystical dialect,"'^ may or may not be, in Carlyle's own word, '' luminous." Scherer says his style becomes pure gibberish and the Quarterly Review echoes this verdict without dissent.^ The notion that his style was a deliberate affectation has long prevailed and dies hard. One writer even feels like contradicting Froude, who asserts that Carlyle wrote as he spoke, on the good ground that he, the particular reviewer, had never heard Carlyle speak. Other critics are more precise and insist that Carlyle's obscurity is due to corrupting German influ- ence,^ and some are able to point out the very Germ^ writer whose style he imitated, namely Richter. Here again is seen the force of the bad name which the sly dog, in a merry mood, gives himself. The misconcep- tions of the critics are in no small measure due to Carlyle's comic over-statement of his own peculiarities. As " English editor " he feels himself bound to take Teufelsdrockh to task for "this piebald, entangled, hyper-metaphorical style of writing,"* abuse almost as severe as old Ebony's. He even makes more specific charges. Teufelsdrockh's style is " marred by the same crudeness, inequality, and apparent want of intercourse with the higher classes. . . . 'On the whole Professor Teufelsdroj^h is not a cultivated writer. ^ Blackzvood^s Edinburgh Magazine, 1850, p. 643. 2 Quarterly Review, Jan., 1885, p. 92. 2 The trick of tearing a phrase out of its context as proof of Carlyle's obscurity is an old one. See Appendix, p. 400. ^Sartor, 266. li^, INTRODUCTION. XliV Of his sentences, perhaps not more than nine-tenths stand straic^rht on their legs; the remainder are in quite angular attitudes, buttressed-up by props (of parentheses and dashes), and ever with this or that tagrag hanging from them ; a few even sprawl-out helplessly on all sides, quite broken-backed and dismembered."^ Such a statement is, .of course, the humorous exaggeration of a writer who is experimenting upon the public with a new style. Carlyle put the worst face on the matter, and again his critics meekly follow his lead. Nor is this all. In his proper capacity as "English editor," he has a confession to make — of undue influence on the part of that dreadful Teuton. " Thus has not the Editor himself, working over Teufels- drockh's German, lost much of his own English purity ? " ^ How Carlyle, the Scot, must have chuckled over the notion ' of his " English purity," at a time when Macaulay was ready to exalt the Cockney prentice above Scott or Robert- )n, as a well of English undefiled. With his usual thoroughness, Carlyle aims at nothing less than complete jivNsti ficatio n. In pursuance oF~Iiis^Trsr"1iumoFous inten- tion, he is at pains to give a German coloring to his style. He lards his pages with scraps of German which he thoughtfully translates, or slips German phrases into the text in brackets, as a guarantee of good faith. He would not be suspected of abusing our confidence. The English and the German are placed side by side for comparison by the intelligent. He further imitates such German idioms as can be" imitated; for instance, the insertion of an adjectival phrase between the noun and its article. Besides, he extends the use of idioms which English possesses in common with German but does not use so freely, such as the adjective for the noun,' and " were " at the beginning of a conditional 1 Sartor, 26 f. 2 //,/^.^ ^g^ * " Condition of the German Learned," 5 2. INTRODUCTION. xlv sentence.^ All this gave the book an odd look which every- one was ready to agree was quite German. In view of this artfulness on the part of Carlyle, critics must not be blamed too severely for accepting with childlike trustfulness his own misstatement of the case. The Sartorian pitfalls are many and ingenious ; and one after another the critics blunder into them. The further charge that Carlyle imitated Richter was made early and it has often been repeated. Thoreau seems to have set the notion going. In the course of a clear- sighted appreciation of Carlyle, written in 1847, he says : " In his graphic description of Richter's style, Carlyle describes his own pretty nearly ; and no doubt he got his own tongue loosened at that fountain, and was inspired by it to equal freedom and originality." ^ The " description " shows that Carlyle and Jean Paul undoubtedly possessed certain things in common, — an untirijqg faculty of jicB*Vs^ allusion, an absolute command of vivid metaphor, and a y turbulently fresh vocabulary. Thoreau makes one impor- tant-reservation. In Carlyle, "the proper current never sinks out of sight amid the boundless uproar," as it undoubtedly does in Richter. In other words, Carlyle dominates his material ; he rides on his whirlwind, while Richter is smothered under his roses. Between the two there is a vast difference, — the difference between the cloud and the clear sky. How Thoreau arrived at his conclusion, I have no means of knowing. He may have had such a knowledge of German as would enable him to compare Jean Paul and Carlyle with an expert eye for nice resemblance. On the other hand, he may simply have read Carlyle's translations of Richter, and his admiring essays, and jumped at a striking analogy. 1 " Sheers down, were it furlongs deep," 26 5. "^ Essays and Other Writings of Henry Thoreau, p. 159, London, n. d. xlvi TXTRODUCTION. Lowell is much more emphatic : " In ' Sartor,' the marked inriuence of Jean Paul is undeniable both in matter and manner.*' ' He thinks also that the humor of Swift, Sterne, and Fielding, after filtering through Richter, "reappears in Carlyle with a tinge of Germanism.''- If this means that Carlyle got his peculiar humor through Richter, Lowell is simply mistaken. Carlyle knew his Swift and his Sterne at hrst hand long before he heard of Richter or knew a word of German. Besides, since this was written, new data, inac- cessible to Lowell, have been published, which tend to overset his theory altogether. It is true that Carlyle bor- rows illustrations from Richter ; ^ but this is a different thing from consciously modelling his style on Richter's, which Lowell seems to imply. Blacktoood* refers confi- dently to Richter as Carlyle's model, in passing, as if the matter were beyond dispute. The idea crops out again, as late as 1885 when the Quarterly^ reviewing Froude's Life^ couples with a contradiction of Froude the statement that Carlyle's imitation of Richter was at first unconscious.^ Of those who have echoed this opinion, how many have examined or tested it, or have possessed fit equipment for making the necessary comparison, is a question which may be deferred. On the other hand, individuals temerarious enough to oppose these notions have not been wanting. In fact the two persons best qualified to speak on the subject, namely Carlyle and Carlyle's most intimate friend, declare against this strong array of confident assertions. Froude opines that "no criticism could be worse founded"^ than that * Lowell, Essays, II, 88, Boston, 1892. 2 /bid. 8 See Notes, 32 34, and passim. * Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, 1850, p. 658. ^Quarterly Kii'inv, Jan., 1S85., P- 9^- ^ C. E. Z, I, 411. INTRODUCTIOJy. xlvii Carlyle's style was imitative of Richter. He further states with great plainness that Carlyle often told him that his style " had its origin in his father's house in Annandale." ^ In another place, Carlyle admits the influence of the " old Puritans and Elizabethans," and asserts that they played a " much more important part " in the formation of his style than Jean Paul ; " and the most important by far was that of Nature." Surely Carlyle ought to know how his own style was formed. Surely his positive statements must carry greater weight than the mere conjectures of the most brilliant critics. How much of the " old Puritans and Elizabethans," Shakspere being always barred, is dis- cernible in Sartor? And yet the influence of this negli- gible quantity was greater than Richter's. Carlyle writes this passage at a very sad time, when he is more anxious to set Irving in a true light than to adjust nicely the general public's notions about his own methods of composition. He enters into no lengthened discussion of the matter, biit merely jots down a note in passing. Though the reference is slight, it is, to my mind, decisive. The publication of Carlyle's early letters has brought to light most important material for the study of his style. His memory has not played him a trick when he says that his style was formed in the old Annandale farm-house. The documentary evidence in support of this statement is ample and convincing. Take for example such a passage as this : " Nap, the mighty, who but a few months ago made the sovereigns of Europe tremble at his nod; who has trampled on thrones and sceptres and kings and priests and principalities and powers, and carried ruin and havoc and blood and fire from Gibralter to Archangel — iV«/, the mighty is — Gone to Pot ! ! ! ^C.E. Z., I, 4II- xlviii INTRODUCTION. " ' I will plant my eagles on the towers of Lisbon. I will conquer Europe and crush Great Britain to the centre of the terraqueous globe.' 1 will go to Elba and be cooped up in Limbo ! ! ! But yesterday, and Boney might have stood against the world ; now ' none so poor to do him reverence.' 'Strange/ says Sancho Panza, 'very strange things happen in the boiling of an egg.' "^ This is not an excerpt from the Latter-day PampJilets, but a bit of a letter written by Carlyle at nineteen, on hearing the news of Napoleon's first overthrow. Not for six years was he to begin the study of German or so much as know that Richter was in existence. Still, here we see exactly what Thoreau saw in Carlyle's style, — the unconventional vocabulary, the free construction, and the wealth of allusion. These things, it must be repeated, Carlyle has in common with Richter ; but in no sense does he derive them from the German humorist. The passage quoted is only one of many which might be cited from his early letters and which display the same qualities. The Teufelsdrockhian dialect is, to my mind, plainly foreshadowed in the nicknames ^' Boney,'' "^\77/, t/ie ffiig/ity,'' in the tags from the Bible, from Shak- spcre, from Don Quixote, in the burlesque of Napoleon's grandiloquence, in the bold use of the slang phrase "gone to i)ot," in the favorite " Limbo," in the dashes and repeti- tion of the first paragraph, in the apparent gap in sense between the last two sentences, and above all in the fresh phrasing and explosive force of the whole passage. This is plainly Carlyle's habitual method of expressing himself. So far from being true that his natural voice is to be heard in his Life of Schiller, and only strained, affected tones in Sartor, the very reverse is the case. When he imitates the popular literary fashions in Wotton Rein/red, or in his hack articles for Brewster, he writes in manacles. When he is 1 E. Lett., 2. INTR on UC TION. xlix carried on by the impetuous flow of his thoughts in Sartor, the book writes itself. The difference is marked even in his early letters. To his intimates he writes in this free strain. In addressing a mere acquaintance he becomes a Scotch polite letter-writer.^ Superficial resemblances between Carlyle and Richter undoubtedly exist, but too much has been made of them. It is high time to call attention to their points of difference. Thoreau lays his finger on the main distinction, the radical distinction between the essentially clear course of Carlyle's sentences and Richter's endless meanderings. From Rich- ter's incurable vice of the parenthesis Carlyle is free. There is nothing in Sartor to compare with the " Zwischen- satze und Zwischengedanken " of the Kampaner Thai, for example. Again, Richter's characteristic note is tender, and at times sentimental ; Carlyle's is stern, strenuous. Even in his tenderest passages, he feels a self-imposed curb. In Richter the note is too often forced, in Carlyle it is felt to be almost always inevitable. Besides all these there are the differences between English prose and German prose. Carlyle has the advantage of a sentence-structure which is logical. He loosens the English sentence, frees it from the trammels of the Johnsonian tradition, and gives it a liveliness almost colloquial. Richter is also of the romantic school and would gladly defy the Median laws of the Ger- man sentence. But they are too strong for him. No single rebel can hope to abate the tyranny of the past participles and relative clauses. Richter's expedient of suppling the German order by the introduction of parentheses, and parentheses within parentheses, only made matters worse. To the unavoidable rigidity of German prose he joins a heavy formlessness of interjected clauses. On the other 1 Contrast, for instance, the letters to Mitchell with No. 24 to '\\ Murray, E. Lett.., 78. 1 INTRODUCTION. hand, Carlyle's style, in Sartor at least, is free and fluid, — it may be as of clear stream, or of mountain torrent, or of burning lava. 'I'hese misconceptions may then finally be laid to rest, Carlyle neither imitates Richter nor forms his style upon liim. To call his style German is simply misuse of words. As seen in Sartor, it is a natural development of fashions of thought and speech learned under his father's roof and plainly traceabl-e in his earliest writings. Leaving the dis- cussion of what his style is not, let us now examine what it is. It is generally conceded that the prose of Addison, of Swift, and of Goldsmith is still unsurpassed in the essential qualities of good prose, that is, in clearness, force, and ease. Later writers have tried to enlarge the scope of classical prose by interfusing it with richer color, and with subtler and more varied harmonies. But for all that, the prose of the eighteenth century remains our classical prose, the model for succeeding generations of writers. Such a master of style as .Arnold stands out for the old tradition. The difference between the prose of Swift and the prose of Ruskin or DeQuincey is striking. The first is intended to be read, it is free from mannerisms, it addresses itself chiefly to the eye. The latter gains by being read aloud, it appeals to the ear, and it is so full of mannerisms that it can be readily imitated and caricatured. No one can caricature Swift or Addison. Modern or romantic prose is surcharged with color, with emotion, and it aims at rhythms undreamt of in the eighteenth century. These qualities of composition we look for, not in prose but in poetry. In prose we have a right to expect, first and fore- most, intellectual qualities, not emotional. The best part of prose is that " vivid exactness " of phrase and that lucid order of the whole, which are due to the exercise of logic. INTR on UC TION. Ji Now Carlyle goes a step beyond both DeQuincey ^and Ruskin, and addresses himself ahiiost exckisively to the ear. ^Beside Carlyle's all other styles seem tame. At times his words seem to shout at you from the printed page. There is hardly a sentence which does not produce the illusion of an audible voice full of mirth, or scorn, or ten- derness, or melancholy, or entreaty. Often a passage which seems hard to the eye, yields up its meaning when read aloud. In this new prose the writer comes much closer to the reader than in the classical prose, which considers it good breeding to suppress the personal note altogether. But this style is not oratorical. It is too close- knit, too free from the hint of insincerity, the necessary verbiage and the diiifuseness of persuasive speech to be classed for a moment with Burke's. Every sentence is, as Mr. Leslie Stephen says " alive to the finger-tips." There is an evident desire to be always emphatic, and no doubt Mr. Stephen is correct in ascribing this to Carlyle's strong feelings, his great intellectual power, his hatred of the con- ventional, and his peculiar irritability of nerve. Later, I shall advert again to this vividness of style and this union of concentration with declamatory effect, which is still not oratorical. Froude calls Carlyle's style ''the clearest of styles."^ This is a hard saying, unless by clear he means structurally clear, or else vivid. Otherwise the judgment cannot pass unchallenged. Between the reader and Carlyle's meaning there always hangs a veil, which grows transparent in the exact degree that he understands Carlyle's manifold and out-of-the-way allusions. To my mind this is the chief and 1 Thoreau had done so long before. " Not one obscure line, or half line, did he ever write. His meaning lies plain as fhe daylight, and he who runs may read." Essays and Other Writings of Henry Thoreau, p. 154. lii J\-rRODUCTION. perhaps the only real difficulty in understanding Carlyle. His own comic self-depreciation may be set aside. It is not because his mind is too weak to construct intelligible sentences ; it is not because those sentences are '' broken- hacked " or " dismembered " ; but because they are full of references to all things visible and invisible, that they are sometimes hard to understand. ^The range of his allusions is immense. Apparently he never forgot anything he ever read or anything he ever saw. All literature lies open before him from which to choose his illustrations. He passes from Aristotle to Peter Pindar, from Goethe to a local almanac. Here is an astronomical fact jostling a scrap of a song in praise of tobacco ; there, a bit from the Anatomy of Melancholy alongside a reference to the dress of tiie South American guacho. Only two English writers approach him in wealth of remote allusion, — Macaulay and Mr. Swinburne. When the allusion is understood the cloudy veil becomes fire, a great and shining light. Take, for example, a typical passage chosen almost at random, — the closing paragraph of the second chapter of Sartor. Within that space are six allusions, — to Horace, to Pope, ^to Tristram S/iandy, to the Bible, to an English trade habit, an obscure Chinese custom.* To the obvious meaning or the text these allusions superadd a fine literary flavor, on which half its effect depends. The meaning is tolerably clear without them ; but until we understand these allusions as Carlyle did, we cannot read the passage as he intended us to read it. Indeed, it is not too much to say that a right apj:)rcciation of it is impossible without a knowledge of the waggish turn which he gives to the solemn Latin adage. Until we know that Mr. Shandy made a similarly free trans- lation of it, to justify the exposure of his grand-aunt Dinah's peccadillo, we miss the author's meaning. The practice, it ' See Notes, pp. 2S5 f. JA'TRODUCTION. jjjj must be confessed, smacks of the schoolmaster ; it is always more or less pedantic. In justification of Carlyle, however the fact is clear that it is the result of a habit of mind, which grew with his growth and tinged the very earliest specimens of his style. His letters to his college friends are crammed with allusions to his reading and with quotations from Milton, Horace, Voltaire, etc., till one of his correspond- ents is driven to remonstrate.^ All through, the influence of his early training is clearly traceable. As a Scotch Pres- byterian he knows his Bible thoroughly. Many passages of Sartor are simply mosaics of familiar texts. As a stu- dent of Mathematics he can speak confidently of Lagrange and Laplace. He is at Edinburgh when French philosophy is influential, and knows his D'Alembert and Voltaire. He learns to read German, he translates German literature and writes essays upon it, and can therefore refer, without fear of making a slip, to Hugo of Trimberg and the Hoard of the Nibelungs. He has explored the deeps and shallows of P^nglish literature, and when he casts his drag-net into that wide sea, no one need be surprised at anything he brings to light. As a bookman by nature, circumstances, and his own mature decision, his allusions are in the main bookish. Knowledge of them is the price he demands for the right of entry into the treasure-house of his thought, i As a professed Carlylean, I, for one, cannot think it too much. "The clearest of styles," "every sentence alive to its finger-tips " are phrases now easier to understand. This clearness, or rather vividness, this impression of abounding life will be found on examination to be largely due to the quality which the Germans call Anschatdichkeit. Carlyle loved the concrete fact with passionate devotion. What- ever was strongly marked, individual, characteristic in a 1 E. Lett., 1 8, n. liv INTROD UC T/Oy. scene or a man or a story fascinated him. Besides, he possessed the vigorous constructive imagination which, being accorded the concrete fact, builds upon it with uner- ring truth. That is, Carlyle's mental vision is so keen, and iiis sympathies so strong that he realizes in its sharpest outline, in its most minute detail, in its exact gradation of color, the fact which is to duller eyes a mere blur, and sets it before the reader in its very form and pressure. Meta- phors, then, are his natural language. With him there is no question of evolving the thought and then dressing it up in some fitting garb of metaphor. The thought and the image are one. For example, he wishes to tell us that Professor Teufelsdrockh's method of arriving at truth is not by a catena of syllogisms. The thought presents it§elf to him as a picture from some children's game. " Our Professor's method is not, in any case, that of common school Logic, where t/ie truths all stand in a row, each hold- ing by the skirts of the other. ^^ ^ Or, again, he wishes to have his audience realize the expression of a face. Teufels- drockh's look is grave, but grave in a certain way. After telling us what it is not, he compares it to the gravity of " some silent, high-encircled mountain-pool." Then one image calls forth another until the tissue of impressive pictures forms one consistent and illuminating whole. The " mountain-pool " may be " perhaps the crater of an extinct volcano; into whose black deeps you fear to gaze; those eyes, those lights that sparkle in it, may indeed be reflexes of the heavenly Stars, but perhaps also glances from the region of Nether Fire.""^ When it is not a question of' giving form and substance to abstractions, but of making transcripts from nature, Carlyle is unapproachable. Every dash of color, every sweeping line shows the artist's eye and i^arA'r, 45. "^ Ibid., 2^, INTRODUCTION. Iv the artist's hand. Who can forget the old sergeant's cot- tage with "flowers struggling in through the very windows," or the swallows '' from far Africa," or the child on the orchard-wall facing the sunset, or the " ruddy morning " of his first day at school, or the hundred other vignettes which brighten Sartor's pages ? The same desire for the concrete is seen in his habit of making proper nouns plural ; for example, '' English National Debts," " Frankfort Corona- tions," " Sloughs of Despair and steep Pisgah hills." " Such burdens as the English national debt," " ceremonies as gor- geous as the coronation of the emperor Joseph at Frank- fort," would not have a tithe of the force or fire of these pregnant condensations. No small part of Carlyle's effect lies in this higher kind of picture-writing. If he be denied his similes and metaphors in all their varieties, his occupa- tion is gone. These three things, then, seem to be the most marked characteristics of his style, — the constant impression of an audible voice, the wealth of allusion, and love of the con- cretely picturesque. Iii a much lower rank I would place his humor, as distinguishing the style of Sartor. The essence of it consists in a juxtaposition of the remote and the incongruous with the result of awakening a feeling of amusement or of scorn or of sadness. For example, " Witness your Pyrrhus conquering the world, yet drinking no better red wine than he had before ! Alas ! witness also your Diogenes, flame-clad, scaling the upper Heaven and verging toward Insanity, for prize of a ' high-souled Brunette,' as if the Earth held but one and not several of these ! " ^ Or again, man, as a " tool-using animal " fashions " Liverpool steam-carriages " and " the British House of Commons." There is ' no connection between the two 1 See p. 131 16. 1^,; IiYTRODUCTION. except in Carlyle's thought. To class them as tools with the "first wooden Dibble" is grotesquely humorous. But Carlyle is not satisfied with the amusement he has awakened. With the trick of Hamlet he turns the jest into sadness. Man, the maker of tools, "digs up certain black stones from the bosom of the Earth and says to them. Transport mc and my luggage at the rate of six-and-thirty miles an hour ; and they do it ; he collects, apparently by lot, six hundred and thirty-eight miscellaneous individuals, and says to them, Make this nation toil for us, bleed for us, hunger, and sorrotv, and'sin for us ; and they do it." In this sort of writing, a taint of the coarse and the sensual seems unavoidable, and from coarseness Carlyle is not altogether free. Here and there in Sartor are touches of peasant frankness of speech and thought, which more conventional minds regard as indeli- cate. Carlyle was disgusted with the "gentlemen's stories " he heard at London supper parties where the punch was strong, and yet he delights in his Rabelaisian epitaph on Count Zahdarm. Some of his fooling does not seem at all admirable; for instance, in the chapter on tailors. The unwieldy elephant uses all his might to make us mirth, but he wreathes his lithe proboscis in vain. We are not amused unless we resemble the essavist who selected his picture of the horrors of war in the " Dumdrudge " passage as an example of humor. The minor structural peculiarities of the Carlylean sen- tence in Sartor may be rapidly passed over. The chief of these is a very free use of the triad, or grouping of words inj v threes, a peculiarity which is to be found in literature from tiie Homeric hymns to Cardinal Newman. Apparently such a collocation satisfies some universal instinct for rhythm or symmetry. In its simplest form it "consists of three adjec- tives. Aphrodite's necklets, for example, are KaAoi, •xjixxruoL, INTRODUCTION. Ivii Tra/xTroLKiXoL^ " It was indeed an oM, decayed, and moribund world into which Christianity had been cast." ^ Carlyle shows an extraordinary fondness for this trick of style. There is hardly a page without an example of it ; for instance, " Every jcellular, vascular, muscular Tissue." '^ Oi instead of adjectives it may be a group of three nouns : " Every . . . Tissue glories in its Lawrences, Magendies, Bichats."^ Or again, it may be three noun phrases; for example, " Our disquisitions on the Social Contract, on the Standard of Taste, on the Migrations of the Herring ? " ^ The phrases may be absolute : " Tears streaming down his cheeks, pipe held aloft, foot clutched into the air." *^ Or again, this triplicity may consist of three verbs : " Riot cries aloud, and staggers and swaggers in his rank dens of shame." ' Or again, the group of three may be three symmetrical sentences ; for example, " Men are dying there, men are being born, men are praying."** These may also occur in combination and with certain modifications, so as to affect the construction of an entire passage.^ 1 Hymns, III, 89. 2 J. H. Newman, Historical Sketches, II, 374, London, 1891. Other examples are not hard to find : " Yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted " {Isa. liii, 4) ; " Go to the ant . . . which having no guide, overseer or ruler " {Frov. vi, 7) ; " Con cagne magrt, studiose e conte " {Inferno, xxxiii, 31). Cp. the inscription over Hell- gate, cant, iii, for triplicate structure. " Wie si ziige einen valken stare, scden', und wW^q'^ {xVibelu7igenlied, Av. I, st. 13). In Latin, the Horatian 'totus teres atque rotundas' will readily occur to one. Goethe and Heine are very fond of this construction; for example, " Im Ganzen, Guten, Schonen Resolut zu leben," " Du bist wie eine Blume, So hold und schcin und rein." The principle seems to be " Alle gute Dinge sind drei." 3 Sartor, 2. ^ Ibid. ' Ibid., 19. 4 Ibid. 6 Ibid., 28. 8 Ibid., 18. 9 See Sartor, 35 19, and notably 135 8, where the author is conscious of the construction. l^-iii INTRODUCTION. In the matter of the capitals with which his pages are studded, Carlyle reverts to the early custom of indicating the important word by this device, which the Germans still in part retain. There are comparatively few neologies to be found, but very many compound words. Of these a very large number are adverbs joined to verbs, after the fashion of the (ierman inseparable prefix. The hyphen gives the verb a new shade of meaning by joining to it the idea of the adverb ; for instance, " sprawl-out " is not the same as " sprawl out." The reader is conscious of the same shift of accent to the verbal part of the compound as in German, > Another mannerism is the occurrence of jingling w^ords in pairs, which are nearly always alliterative and sometimes rhyme; for example, "lucid and lucent," "habitable and habilable," " booby and bustard," " clothwebs and cobwebs," "lluid and llorid," "staggers and swaggers," "right and tight." Another mannerism which may puzzle the reader is his habit of quoting from himself. Phrases cut off by inverted commas are sprinkled thickly through Sartor. These seem to be from authors w^iich ought to be well known, until closer inspection reveals the quotation im- bedded in the text a few lines or a few pages before. Not infrequently the puzzle is made harder by the length of the interval between the two occurrences or by the way Carlyle modifies the passage he quotes. Such are Carlyle's chief mannerisms as seen in Sartor. If, then, the foregoing train of reasoning be sound and based on facts which may be verified, the following conclu- sions may be regarded as established. ' Sartor presents the first example of Carlyle's fully developed and characteristic style. That style is not imitative of Richter, or of German at all ; but it is an independent development of tendencies apparent in Carlyle's earliest writings. Declamatory, approaching the effect of speech, it still avoids the diffuse- INTRODUCTION. jjx ness of oratory. It has the concentration of a Hebrew prophecy. If the blind of German be set aside, and the misconceptions due to it, the style is seen to be extraor- ^^ dinarily vivid. A very large part of this vividness, or Anschaulichkeit, depends on Carlyle's love of the concretely J picturesque, combined with his great natural command of metaphor. Apart from the veil of allusion, such a style requires no special illumination to make it clear. Now such a style is not that of a prose writer, but of a poet. It is in poetry that we look for the personal rather than the impersonal note ; for the ornate rather than the simple presentation of ideas ; and, in the last place, for the appeal to the emotions rather than to the reason. But Sartor is not, in Tennyson's word, " measured language." The accident of verse is wanting. It is therefore necessary to make a new category under which to range Carlyle,^ and the term *' prose-poet " has been devised. A prose- j poet, I take it, is one using prose to convey ideas usually ■ set out in verse, and employing for this purpose a style surcharged with feeling, harmony, and color. Ruskin, in his lyrical perorations, DeQuincey, in parts of The Eng- lish Mail-coach^ are prose-poets. In Sartor this style is sustained almost from first to last ; in the French Revolution I should say it was completely sustained. The style is by turns tender, indignant, grotesque, idyllic, scornful, majestic, but always after the manner of poetry, not after the manner of prose. This is, of course, a very different thing from the bastard blank verse which Dickens wrote occasionally, and 1 " A born poet only wanting perhaps a clearer feeling for form." J. Morley, Critical Miscellanies, I, 149, London, 1888. "Two or three masterpieces of the Annandale peasant-poet." F. Harrison, The Forum, p. 550, Aug., 1894. J. C. Shairp classes Carlyle and Newman as prose- poets. Aspects of Poetry, Oxford, 1881. "The greatest of the prose- poets of England." J. Nichol, Thomas Carlyle, 190, N. Y., 1892. Ix INTRODUCTION. its power is unquestioned. Whether it is legitimate or wholly admirable may be still an open question. To ven- ture a personal opinion, I should say that any one with the justification of Carlyle's ever-burning anger at folly and wrong, his moral earnestness, his " fancies chaste and noble " has a warrant to write in Carlylese. \ VII. Carlyle is, then, a prose-poet, and Sartor is a prose-poem. Its place in our literature is unique, and is likely to remain so. \\\ si.xty years the popular estimate of the book has undergone a complete revolution. Fraser offered to publish it, if Carlyle would pay ///;;/ ;^i5o. When it did appear, it was received with indifference or curses. Just before Carlyle's death, a cheap edition of 30,000 copies was printed and sold in a few weeks. It is now, undoubtedly, the favorite of all his works and the most frequently quoted. The wheel has come full circle. The world has more than confirmed the verdict of Carlyle's first and best critic ; and now all opinions worth regarding are simply variations of the theme " It is a work of genius, dear." Professor \ichol thinks that if the most suggestive passages be scored, the book will be disfigured from cover to cover. Mr. Lecky considers it one of the most influential and popular books published in the second half of the century. " The most original, the most characteristic, the deepest, and the most lyrical of his productions " is the opinion of .Mr. Frederic Harrison. "There are . . . passages in Sartor Resartus . . . which have long appeared to me to be the sublimest poetry of the age," says the vivacious author of Ot'iter Dicta. Dr. Garnett, perhaps, goes farther than any one. He will hardly allow it to be studied as INTRODUCTION. Ixi mere literature any more than Holy Writ. " It will be read as a gospel or not at all." The import of the book to two different classes of readers is perhaps best illustrated by Huxley's account of the impression it made upon himself and the friend with whom he was so long associated. " At that time Tyndall and I had long been zealous students of Carlyle's works. Sartor Resartus and the MiscellaJiies were among the few books devoured, partly by myself and partly by the mighty hordes of cockroaches, during the cruise of the Rattlesnake ; and my sense of obligation to the author was then, as it remains, extremely strong. Tyndall's appreciation of the seer of Chelsea was even more enthusiastic ; and in after years assumed a character of almost filial devotion. The grounds of our appreciation, however, were not exactly the same. My friend, I think, was disposed to regard Carlyle as a great teacher ; I was rather inclined to take him as a great tonic, — as a source of intellectual invigoration and moral stimulus and refreshment, rather than of theoretical or practical guidance." ^ That is the difference, — some take Carlyle as a teacher and some as a tonic, — "a source of intellectual invigoration and moral stimulus." It seems, too, that of late years, more and more readers take Huxley's point of view ; and many who begin with Tyndall pass from the first stage of appreciation to the second. Their attitude toward Sartor divides Carlyle's admirers into these two classes. For the professed Carlylean, the reader who takes Car- lyle for his teacher, Sartor presents the law and the gospel of the master in their most pleasing and most portable form. Nowhere else, except, perhaps, in the Edinburgh address, does he put his special message before the world with such winsomeness. Nearly all the graces and splendors 1 Professor Tyndall, Nineteenth Century, Jan., 1894. Ixii INTRODUCTION. of poetry, except the controlling influence of verse, accom- pany and decorate that message. It is blended with the most tender, delicate human interest. It is made acceptable by humor. What the message really is, all critics are agreed. Directly in the face of Byron and Buhver and even Scott, who exalted the aristocratic social ideal, despising implicitly both trade and work, Carlyle, the son of the Scottish mason, sings the hymn of labor. " Two men I honour and no third. First the toilworn Craftsman, that wdth earth-made Implement laboriously conquers the Earth, and makes her man's." So his p«an opens. How harshly this note must have rung in the ears of a generation which had been enchanted by the shallow strains of Lara and genteel inan- ities of Pii/iam f To the comfortable Philistinism of that day how heretical must have sounded such a cry from the w ilderness as this : " Produce ! Produce ! Were it but the pitifuUest infinitesimal fraction of a Product, produce it, in God's name ! 'T is the utmost thou hast in thee ; out with it, then ! Up, up ! Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy whole might. Work while it is called To-day ; for the Night Cometh, wherein no man can work." In Sartor is a condemnation of cant as hearty as Johnson's, — a condemnation to be often repeated. The gospel of Silence is here, not as yet " effectively compressed in thirty fine volumes." But all these are only parts or aspects of the great clothes doctrine or philosophy. This is, in a word, radicalism, — going to the root of the matter, stripping the clothes, coverings, wrappages from life, religion, and politics. The aim of the clothes philosophy — as of every other phi- losophy — is to see the thing itself, apart from all accidental and temporary forms. Carlyle, in Sartor^ is trying to get the conventional, Philistinian England of his day back to first principles. It is probably safe to say that four persons read Sartor INTROD UC TION. Ixiii in the spirit of Huxley for one in the spirit of Tyndall. The general reader is rather a taker of tonics than a devotee. Coleridge has a fine phrase about awakening the mind from ] the lethargy of custom ; and this is precisely the effect of ' Sartor on the ordinary lover of books. In all our specula- tions we have tacitly figured man as a clothed animal. In Sartor we see the natural man, stripped of all the con- ventions with which he has enswathed himself. Of our- selves we would have gone on in our conventional life, decent, respectable, commonplace, with little thought either of the stars above us or the graves under our feet. From this lethargy of custom Carlyle awakens us, — he compels us to listen to him. We cannot choose but hear. Except, for him it might never have occurred to us that our lives are spent in merely grinding down clothes into rags. After all our varied activity, the final result is little more. "How true," we say, " we never thought of it before." On the other hand, in our mean cares and common tasks and narrow interests, we had been so many men with muck-rakes, never seeing the crown above our heads. In spite of our reiterated creeds and confessions, we hardly thought of ourselves as part of the wonderful race — mankind — that wild-flaming, wild-thundering train of Heaven's artillery, " that flames and thunders through the everlasting deep." On the one hand. Sartor shows us the infinitely little, and, on the other, the infinitely great in the lives of us all. No one before had set himself to the task with so much power and earnestness; the effect is magical. Like Mirzah's genius, Carlyle stands at our side and strengthens our eyesight till we are able to penetrate the mist about us, and behold the vision of life taking shape and meaning before our eyes. Apart from its general meaning to these two classes of readers. Sartor may be regarded as a modern Pilgrim's Progress. It represents a career which Carlyle would have ]xiv INTRODUCTION. us believe is typical of this age,— the round of experience felt by an earnest soul confronted by the problems of the day. _In this spiritual autobiography the love affair of Teufelsdrockh is only one episode, though a most important one, in his toilsome journey from the modern City of Des- truction to the nineteenth century New Jerusalem. The course is plain. He begins with certainties and almost at once encounters doubts. His mother had taught him "her own simple version of the Christian faith," and he considers this a riclicr possession than two and thirty quarterings of the family arms. At the university he learns what loneliness is, and finds no guidance from his teachers. He thinks out a ground-plan of nature and human life ; but he feels that it is faulty and mechanical. With little external stimulus he begins to doubt and to inquire " concerning miracles and the evidences of religious faith." The end is blank unbe- lief, — for a time. Teufelsdrockh disbelieves in all things, even in himself, and consequently, in the possibility of being loved. Naturally and inevitably he is utterly wretched. For a short time his love for Blumine lifts him into ecstatic happiness, but his disappointment throws him back upon himself in tenfold misery. He undergoes wanderings, pri- vations, sickness "of the chronic sort," which he sustains with an intense kind of stoicism.' He cannot escape from himself, — from his own shadow. Want of worldly success makes his case worse. Shut out from useful activity, he is forced to "devour his own heart." There is no relief for his misery. Still he does not abandon the struggle ; he is a most reluctant unbeliever. The " English editor's " com- ment on the situation is that Teufelsdrockh is still a servant of God at the very moment of doubting His existence, because he will not blind his intellect or juggle with his conscience. He can find no comfort in the " Profit-and- Loss philosophy," as he scornfully calls the reigning utili- INTRODUCTION. j^y tarianism ; and he cannot believe that "Soul is synonymous with Stomach." Faith is still the one thing needful. One ray of light remains. " The Infinite nature of Duty " is "still dimly present to him." But the light is very dim. Failure in life and mental and physical suffering drive him to the very brink of self-murder. His misery makes him indifferent to danger and endows him with a counterfeit courage, while at the same time he is subject to the bond- age of " a continual, indefinite, pining fear." " It seemed as if all things in the Heavens above and the Earth beneath would hurt me ; as if the Heavens and the Earth were but boundless jaws of a devouring monster, wherein I, palpitat- ing, waited to be devoured." It is plain that this state of mind could not last. The City of Destruction, by its very nature, cannot be an abiding-place for any pilgrim. This is the last pass to which the Evpr1asting_N^ reduces Teufelsdrockh. This famous phrase of Carlyle's, though often misunderstood ^ to be the " protest " of the hero, means simply the sum of those facts which seem to deny the existence of a moral order in the universe. It is that series of phenomena which have pro voked the obstinate questionings of thoughtful men from the days of Job down, when given a negative interpretation. The Everlasting No peals " authoritatively through all the recesses " of the pilgrim's being : " Thou art fatherless, outcast, and the Universe is mine (the Devil's)." The Everlasting No is, then, in plain terms, according to Carlyle, the Devil ; which again is, according to Goethe, the spirit which denies. At once the question arises, " How does the pilgrim Teufelsdrockh vanquish this Apollyon 1 " The query is all important ; for Carlyle considers the conflict between inherited belief and new knowledge as typical and inevitable.^ " Not being born purely a Loghead (^Dii?Ji7?tkopf), thou hadst ^ See 153 !:{, n. p 350. ^ See Essays, Goethe, I, 240. ^ Ixvi INTRODUCTION. no other outlook" than skepticism. " The whole world is, -- like thee, sold to Unbelief." In Teufelsdrockh's case, the lirst step on the way out of the maze is taken in the Rue St. Thomas de I'Enfer. This is, in plain terms, a moment of illumination, a revulsion of feeling, a reaction of courage to endure life after a prolonged period of depression and cowardice. This is the turning-point in his career. He becomes less morbid and less absorbed in his own troubles ; he can, " at least in lucid intervals, look away from his own sorrows over the -many-coloured world." Through much ) experience of life he attains to the " Centre of Indifference," which is realizing the nothingness of life, not only for him- / self, but for the race. The stars burn and brand this truth into him as they taught the lover of Maud. Now Teufelsdrockh is in the way to receive the Everlast- ing Yea, or positive principle of life. What is said at this point of the inevitable conflict between the flesh and the spirit is a restatement, in non-theological terms, of truths which have been more clearly stated by St. Paul. Reaching the " Centre of Indifference " is, in effect, losing sight of his own woes in view of the fate of human kind. This " pre- liminary moral act — annihilation of self (^Selbsttodtimgy — ) is indispensable if further progress is to be made. From the contemplation of Nature in the new spirit comes the new Evangel, — " The Universe is not dead and demoniacal, a charnel house with spectres ; but godlike, and my Father's." I This is the very opposite of the authoritative utterance of \ the Everlasting No. Now he is on the threshold of the I " Sanctuary of Sorrow," which is neither more nor less than jthe central fact of Christianity. The plainest interpreta- I tion of this is that Teufelsdrockh, after a period of unbelief, j turns again, wistfully, to the faith of his childhood. The I whim of happiness must be discarded if the secret of life is ^ to be learned ; and it is to be learned by that age and gen- INTRODUCTION. Ixvii eration not from Byron but from Goethe. There is some- thing higher than happiness. The great secret is Eiit- ) sagen, renunciation. " Love not Pleasure ; love God./ This is the Everlasting _Yea, wherein all contradiction/ is solved." It is not necessary at this point to interpret this precept, nor to insist on Carlyle's personal obligations to Goethe for the doctrine of^renunciation, which were very great. In the case of his hero, the reception of this truth — this positive principle of life — leads to immediate results ; the rejection of Voltairism, and renewed and deeper reverence for the " Worship of Sorrow." Then follows the establishment of very important convictions : that doubt of any kind cannot be removed except by action ; that the duty to be done is the nearest ; and that the ideal is to be found in the domain I of'The actual. " Here or nowhere is America." Teufels- drockh, in this serener frame of mind, resolves to be, not a j chaos, but a world, and finds his sphere of usefulness in the \ production of literature. That all this applies accurately to Carlyle is less impor- tant than that he considers the case of Teufelsdrockh to be typical, at least in the earlier stages of his experience. The evil is widespread ; but possibly Carlyle's method of cure, which is Goethe's, will not be universally accepted. Put roughly and briefly, the evil is th^ inevitable break ' with inherited faith and lapse into crippling unbelief. The cure lies in a revolt from materialism, peace in work, and the Goethean philosophy. These phases of spiritual struggle \ have since been repeated in many memoirs and biographies,;^ they have even become the commonplaces of the novelist>-^ The problem is old enough, but is Carlyle's solution of ii so very new ? Is his doctrine so very different from the essential teaching of nineteen centuries ? Is it difficult to imagine any wise teacher of the Christian faith in any age Ixviii INTRODUCTION. saying to the doubting, burdened soul, " Renounce self ; love not pleasure, love God ; work in well-doing " ? Carlyle does not define the essential term, — God. To the Catholic, to the early Protestant, to the Mohammedan, that one word is an entire theology, as Newman points out. I have no wish to assail Carlyle's reputation for heterodoxy, but I fear that he cannot be successfully defended from the charge of preaching Theism in Sartor, at least. He either means by God, much what his old-fashioned peasant mother meant, as indeed he continually assured her, or he means nothing. Possibly he refused to define it even to himself ; but unless he did so, how could he keep his readers from using it with its old connotation ? If he said A, and would not, accord- ing to the proverb, follow it up with B, he showed no reason why his disciples should be so illogical. At the end of Book I, Carlyle drops his jest for a time and asks in all seriousness, " What is the use of health or of life if not to do some work therewith ? And what work nobler than transplanting foreign Thought into the barren domestic soil ? " This reveals his own view of his mission. He had been transplanting foreign thought in his essays and translations ; but no essay or translation was to have the Vogue and influence of Sartor. The significant thing is that the foreign thought which he transplants is not French, though French Philosophy was dominant, but German. The positive teaching of Sartor is Goethean through and through. As he rejected Voltairism, so did Teufelsdrockh. The three principles in which Teufelsdrockh finds peace are summed up in three quotations from Goethe. In what Goethe named world-literature, Sartor is one point at which Goethe's influence touched England.* It is no wonder that Carlyle exalts his German evangelist who showed him the way of escape from Byronism. Except for the teaching of ^ Manfred was another. INT ROD UC TION. Ixix Wilhebn Meister, he must have followed the counsel Job's wife gave her husband. Looking at it from another point of view, Sartor forms part of the literature of skepticism. The Book of fob, the works of Lucretius and Montaigne all show the spirit of doubt or of unbelief ; but it is only in our own era that skepticism has been recognized as a distinct literary 7notif as the reason for a book's existence. To this class belong Faust, Manfred, Cain, Sartor Resartus, and In Memoriam, which all depict in different ways the struggle between faith and unfaith. The protagonists are all, for a time at least, doubters. Carlyle and Tennyson find different remedies for the trouble, where Goethe and Byron find none. But they all agree in this, — that they do not write for the pur- pose of upsetting any faith, as pronounced freethinkers have done in numberless didactic essays and tracts. Their aim is art, not teaching. They are all deeply in earnest because they regard the questions they raise as the weight- iest that can concern the mind. They are all reverent, they are never flippant. They never exhibit the boyish vehemence of Shelley in Queen Mab. At the same time the skepticism is the salt of their work. Take Mephistopheles out of Faust and the drama shrinks into a mere intrigue. Imagine a Teufelsdrockh who has never doubted, suffered, renounced, attained to calm, and the int§rest in the book has vanished. Unless the author of In Metnoriam found it necessary to state in his own way the '' truths that never can be proved," the great poem would dwindle to an epitaph. Our century has been marked by widespread religious doubt. The undeniable fact Carlyle and Tennyson do not attempt to blink. They have felt the doubt, and they offer ways of escape from it, in each case embodying, as I believe, their own experience. In their work is to be found the antidote to Byronism, and both show the influence of Goethe. Ixx INTRODUCTION. In his parable of "The Flower," Tennyson shows that he is quite aware that he had set the tune for all the minor singers of his day. It is a simple fact that his manner has dominated the poetry of the last forty years almost as absolutely as Pope's manner dominated the poetry of the eighteenth century. Carlyle's distinctive manner is much more strongly marked than Tennyson's; but possibly for that very reason has found no imitators. In some points, the eccentricities, as well as the excellences, of Browning and Mr. George Meredith resemble Carlyle's ; but it would be difficult to make out a case of deliberate mimicry. CaT- lyle's style is the bow of Ulysses, the brand of Astur, a weapon for no feebler hand than his. He has not led other writers to imitate his style, but his direct personal influence on the leaders of thought has been very great. He has influenced the men of influence. His first convert of note was Emerson. Now though the sneer that he was an " American pocket edition of Carlyle " is ridiculous, and P^merson is undoubtedly his own man, he would still be the first to acknowledge his indebtedness to the great Scotsman. Indeed, the tone of Emerson's letters to his friend show throughout a curious blending of friendship and discipleship. And it was Emerson who emancipated America from literary dependence on England. During the nine silent, sad years between 1833 ai# 1S42, Tennyson, as yet " the unaccredited hero," was Carlyle's friend, and the two seem to have had numberless unchronicled smokes and talks together. These years were undoubtedly the great poet's forty days in the wilderness, the time when he perfected his art and thought out the problems of /;/ Memoriavi : and there is good reason for believing that Carlyle's Sartorian philosophy aided him in his task. Some curious verbal resemblances are pointed out in the commentary.^ Kingsley, again, in his earlier novels, 1 See Notes, 40 30, 46 :j, i, SO 12, SI 4, 5, S4 15, 122 ai, 152 I8, 210 25. INTRODUCTION. ]xxi is unmistakably under the influence of Carlyle.^ Sandy Mackaye, in Alton Locke, is admittedly modeled from the sage ofChelsea. In the fierceness, the tenderness, the Irum orTtlieScotch accent of that remarkable dealer in second- hand books, we have probably the most artistic represen- tation of Carlyle's wonderful table talk. Ruskin, who came later, is also proud to acknowledge Carlyle as his master in his humanitarian efforts. The attitude of Huxley and Tyn- dall toward him has been already explained. It was Tyndall who stood by him all through the trials of the Edinburgh rectorship, and he was one of the few who saw him laid in the earth. Though only a few of the noted names are assembled here to show his power over the minds of men, the list might be greatly increased; and to trace that power through all its subtle workings would require, not a paragraph, but a volume. It is " mightiest in the mightiest," and it is felt only less keenly by great masses of the undistinguished. In all the Anglian world — in Eng- land, the United States,^ and the great colonies — uncounted young men have come under that potent spell, and have found in Carlyle either tonic, or teaching, or both. Of all his works none braces and builds the spirit up like Sartor Resartus ; and nowhere else does Carlyle give the world so much of himself at his best. 1 See, for direct compliments, Alton Locke, caps, x, xvi. 2 " The Transcendental Movement. . . . Apparently set astirring by Carlyle's essays on the ' Signs of the Times,' and on 'History,' the final and more immediate impulse seemed to be given by * Sartor Resartus.' At least the republication in Boston of that wonderful Abraham a Sancta Clara sermon on Lear's text of the miserable forked radish gave the signal for a sudden mental and moral mutiny." Lowell, Thoreau. A '^ /i^twH^ J<.^r-iA- /? ytu^ ■ XXa->o- bX-o-^L 7t-«--c^ ^IjuuMJLi-^ln^ SARTOR RESARTUS. book: I. . C H A P T E R I. PRELIMINARY. Considering our present advanced state of culture, and how the Torch of Science has now been brandished and borne about, with more or less effect, for five- thousand years and upwards ; how, in these times especially, not only the Torch still burns, and perhaps 5 more fiercely than ever, but innumerable Rush-lights, and Sulphur-matches, kindled thereat, are also glancing in every direction, so that not the smallest cranny or doghole in Nature or Art can remain unilluminated, — it might strike the reflective mind with some surprise that 10 hitherto little or nothing of a fundamental character, whether in the way of Philosophy or History, has been written on the subject of Clothes. Our Theory of Gravitation is as good as perfect : Lagrange, it is well known, has proved that the Planetary 15 System, on this scheme, will endure forever ; Laplace, still more cunningly, even guesses that it could not have been made on any other scheme. Whereby, at least, our nautical Logbooks can be better kept; and water- transport of all kinds has grown more commodious. Of 20 Geology and Geognosy we know enough : what with the 2 SARTOA' KESARTUS. labours of our Werners and Huttons, what with the ardent j^enius of their disciples, it has come about that now, to many a Royal Society, the Creation of a World is little more mysterious than the cooking of a Dum.pling; con- 5 cerning which last, indeed, there have been minds to whom the c^uestion, Jfcnc the Apples were got in presented dilliculties. \ Why mention our disquisitions on the Social Contract, on the Standard of Taste, on the Migrations of the Herring? Then, have we not a Doctrine of Rent, a 10 Theory, cf Value; Philosophies of Language, of History, .o£ Pottery, of Apparitions, of Intoxicating Liquors? Man's whale life arrd environment have been laid open and elucidated ; scarcely a fragment or fibre of his Soul, Hody, and Possessions, but has been probed, dissected, 15 distilled, desiccated, and scientifically decomposed: our spiritual Faculties, of which it appears there are not a few, have their Stewarts, Cousins, Royer Collards : every cellular, vascular, muscular Tissue glories in its Lawrences, Magendies, Bichats."^ ::o How, then, comes it, may the refiective mind repeat, that the grand Tissue of all Tissues, the only real Tissue, should have been quite overlooked by Science, — the vestural Tissue, namely, of woollen or other cloth ; which Man's Soul wears as its outmost wrappage and overall; -5 wherein his whole other Tissues are included and screened, his whole Faculties work, his whole Self lives, moves, and has its being? For if, now and then, some straggling broken-winged thinker has cast an owl's glance into this obscure region, the most have soared over it 30 altogether heedless ; regarding Clothes as a property, not an accident, as quite natural and spontaneous, like the leaves of trees, like the plumage of birds. In all specula- tions they have tacitly figured man as a Clothed Atiiinal ; whereas he is by nature a Naked Anivial ; and only in PRELIMINARY. 3 certain circumstances, by purpose and device, masks himself in Clothes. Shakspeare says, we are creatures that look before and after ; the more surprising that we do not look round a little, and see what is passing under our very eyes. 5 But here, as in so many other cases, Germany, learned, indefatigable, deep-thinking Germany comes to our aid. It is, after all, a blessing that, in these revolutionary times, there should be one country where abstract Thought can still take shelter; that while the din and 10 frenzy of Catholic Emancipations, and Rotten Boroughs, and Revolts of Paris, deafen every French and every English ear, the German can stand peaceful on his scientific watch-tower ; and, to the raging, struggling multitude here and elsewhere, solemnly, from hour to 15 hour, with preparatory blast of cowhorn, emit his Horet ihr Herren unci lassefs Eiich sagen; in other words, tell the Universe, which so often forgets that fact, what o'clock it really is. Not unfrequently the Germans have been blamed for an unprofitable diligence ; as if they 20 struck into devious courses, where nothing was to be had but the toil of a rough journey ; as if, forsaking the gold- mines of Finance, and that political slaughter of fat oxen whereby a man himself grows fat, they were apt to run goose-hunting into regions of bilberries and crowberries, 25 and be swallowed up at last in remote peat-bogs. Of that unwise science, which, as our Humorist expresses it, ' By geometric scale Doth take the size of pots of ale' ; Still more, of that altogether misdirected industry, which 30 is seen vigorously thrashing mere straw, there can nothing defensive be said. In so far as the Germans are chargeable with such, let them take the consequence. ^ SARTOR RESARTVS. Nevertheless be it remarked, that even a Russian steppe has tumuli and gold ornaments ; also many a scene that looks desert and rock-bound from the distance, will unfold itself, when visited, into rare valleys. Nay, in 5 any case, would Criticism erect not only finger-posts and turnpikes, but spiked gates and impassable barriers, for the mind of man? It is written, 'Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.' Surely the plain rule is. Let each considerate person have his way, and 10 see what it will lead to. For not this man and that man, but all men make up mankind, and their united tasks the task of mankind. How often have we seen some such adventurous, and perhaps much-censured wanderer light on some outlying, neglected, yet vitally momentous 15 province; the hidden treasures of which he first discov- ered, and kept proclaiming till the general eye and effort were directed thither, and the conquest was completed ; — thereby, in these his seemingly so aimless rambles, plant- ing new standards, founding new habitable colonies, in 20 the immeasurable circumambient realm of Nothingness and Night! Wise man was he who counselled that Speculation should have free course, and look fearlessly towards all the thirty-two points of the compass, whither- soever and howsoever it listed. 25 Perhaps it is proof of the stinted condition in which ' pure Science, especially pure moral Science, languishes among us English ; and how our mercantile greatness, and invaluable Constitution, impressing a political or other immedi.ately practical tendency on all English cul- 30 ture and endeavour, cramp the free flight of Thought, — • that this, not Philosophy of Clothes, but recognition even that we have no such Philosophy, stands here for the first time published in our language. What English intellect could have chosen such a topic, or by chance stumbled PRELIMINARY, - on it ? But for that same unshackled, and even seques- tered condition of the German Learned, which permits and induces them to fish in all manner of waters, with all manner of nets, it seems probable enough, this abstruse Inquiry might, in spite of the results it leads to, have 5 continued dormant for indefinite periods. The Editor of these sheets, though otherwise boasting himself a man of confirmed speculative habits, and perhaps discursive enough, is free to confess, that never, till these last months, did the above very plain considerations, on our 10 total want of a Philosophy of Clothes, occur to him ; and then, by quite foreign suggestion. By the arrival, namely, \ of a new book from Professor Teufelsdrockh of Weiss- \ nichtwo ; treating expressly of this subject ; and in a \ style which, whether understood or not, could not even 151 by the blindest be overlooked. In the present Editor's way of thought, this remarkable Treatise, with its Doc- trines, whether as judicially acceded to, or judicially denied, has not remained without effect. ./ ' Die Kleider^ ihr Werden imd Wirken (Clothes, their 20 Origin and Influence) : von Diog. Teufelsdrockh^ J. U.D. etc. Stillschweigen und Co^"^^- Weissjiichtivo, 1831. ' Here,'- says the Weissnichtwo'' sche Anzeiger, 'comes a Volume of that extensive, close-printed, close-meditated sort, which be it spoken with pride, is seen only in Ger- 25 many, perhaps only in Weissnichtwo. Issuing from the hitherto irreproachable Firm of Stillschweigen and Company, with every external furtherance, it is of such internal quality as to set Neglect at defiance.' ... 'A work,' concludes the well-nigh enthusiastic Reviewer, 3° interesting alike to the antiquary, the historian, and the philosophic thinker ; a masterpiece of boldness, lynx- eyed acuteness, and rugged independent Germanism and Philanthropy {lierber Kenideiitschheit imd Menschen- SARTOR RESARTUS. *Uebe)\ which will not, assuredly, pass current without ' opposition in high places ; but must and will exalt the ' almost new name of Teufelsdrockh to the first ranks of ' Philosophy, in our German Temple of Honour.' 5 Mindful of old friendship, the distinguished Professor, in this the first blaze of his fame, which however does not dazzle him, sends hither a Presentation-copy of his Hook; with compliments and encomiums which modesty forbids the present Editor to rehearse ; yet without 10 indicated wish or hope of any kind, except what may be implied in the concluding phrase : Mochte es (this remark- i able Treatise) auch im Britiisclicn Boden gcdcihen / , | j^ rU^i &-vJ^ EDITORIAL DIFFICULTIES. If for a speculative man, 'whose seedfield,' in, the sublime words of the Poet, 'is Time,' no conquest is im- 15 portant but that of new ideas, then might the arrival of Professor Teufelsdrockh's Book be marked with chalk in the txlitor's calendar. It is indeed an 'extensive Vol- ume,' of boundless, almost formless contents, a very Sea of thought ; neither calm nor clear, if you will ; yet wherein 20 the toughest pearl-diver may dive to his utmost depth, and return not only with sea-wreck but with true orients. Directly on the first perusal, almost on the first delib- erate inspection, it became apparent that here a quite new IJranch of Philosophy, leading to as yet undescried 25 ulterior results, was disclosed ; farther, what seemed scarcely less interesting, a quite new human Individuality, an almost unexampled personal character, that, namely, / EDITORIAL DIFFICULTIES. 7 of Professor Teufelsdrockh the Discloser. Of both which novelties, as far as might be possible, we resolved to master the significance. But as man is emphatically a proselytising creature, no sooner was such mastery even fairly attempted, than the new question arose: 5 How might this acquired good be imparted to others, perhaps in equal need thereof ; how could the Philos- ophy of Clothes, and the Author of such Philosophy, be ^^^^^ brought home, in any measure, to the business and ^^ bosoms of our own English Nation ? For if new-got gold x^r is said to burn the pockets till it be cast forth into circulation, much more may new Truth. Here, however, difficulties occurred. The first thought naturally was to publish Article after Article on this remarkable Volume, in such widely-circulating Critical 15 Journals as the Editor might stand connected with, or by money or love procure access to. But, on the other hand, was it not clear that such matter as must here be revealed and treated of might endanger the circulation of any 'Journal extant.^ If, indeed, all party-divisions in 20 the State could have been abolished, Whig, Tory, and Radical, embracing in discrepant union ; and all the Journals of the Nation could have been jumbled into one Journal, and the Philosophy of Clothes poured forth in incessant torrents therefrom, the attempt had seemed 25 possible. But, alas, what vehicle of that sort have we, except Ft-aser's Magazine? A vehicle all strewed (figura- tively speaking) with the maddest Waterloo-Crackers, exploding distractively and destructively, wheresoever the mystified passenger stands or sits ; nay, in any case, 30 understood to be, of late years, a vehicle full to over- flowing, and inexorably shut ! Besides, to state the Philosophy of Clothes without the Philosopher, the ideas of Teufelsdrockh without something of his personality. g SARTOR RESARTUS. was it not to insure both of entire misapprehension? Now for Biography, had it been otherwise admissible, tlicre were no adequate documents, no hope of obtaining such, but rather, owing to circumstances, a special 5 despair. Tiius did the Editor see himself, for the \vhile, shut out from all public utterance of these extraordinary Doctrines, and constrained to revolve them, not without disquietude, in the dark depths of his own mind. So had it lasted for some months ; and now the 10 Volume on Clothes, read and again read, was in several points becoming lucid and lucent ; the personality of its Author more and more surprising, but, in spite of all that memory and conjecture could do, more and more enigmatic; whereby the old disquietude seemed fast 15 settling into fixed discontent, — when altogether un- expectedly arrives a Letter from Herr Ilofrath Heu- schrecke, our Professor's chief friend and associate in Weissnichtwo, with whom we had not previously cor- responded. The Hofrath, after much quite extraneous 20 matter, began dilating largely on the 'agitation and attention ' w hich the Philosophy of Clothes was exciting in its own German Republic of Letters ; on the deep significance and tendency of his Friend's Volume ; and then, at length, with great circumlocution, hinted at the -5 practicability of conveying 'some knowledge of it, and of him, to England, and through England to the distant * West ' : a Work on Professor Teufelsdrockh, ' were un- doubtedly welcome to the Family, the National, or any other of those patriotic Libraries, at present the glory of 30 British Literature'; might work revolutions in Thought; and so forth ; — in conclusion, intimating not obscurely, that should the present Editor feel disposed to undertake a Biography of Teufelsdrockh, he, Hofrath Heuschrecke, had it in his power to furnish the requisite documents. EDITORIAL DIFFICULTIES. 9 As in some chemical mixture, that has stood long evaporating, but would not crystallise, instantly when the wire or other fixed substance is introduced, crystalli- sation commences, and rapidly proceeds till the whole is finished, so was it with the Editor's mind and this oft'er of Heuschrecke's. Form arose out of void solution and discontinuity; like united itself with jjke in definite arrangement : and soon either in actual vision and pos- session, or in fixed reasonable hope, the image of the whole Enterprise had shaped itself, so to speak, into a 10 solid mass. Cautiously, yet courageously, through the twopenny post, application to the famed redoubtable Oliver Yorke was now made : an interview, interviews with that singular man have taken place ; with more of assurance on our side, with less of satire (at least of open 15 satire) on his, than we anticipated ; — for the rest, with such issue as is now visible. As to these same 'patriotic Libraries,' the Hofrath's counsel could only be viewed with silent amazement ; but with his offer of Documents we joyfully and almost instantaneously closed. Thus, 20 too, in the sure expectation of these, we already see our task begun ; and this our Sartor Resartus, which is properly a 'Life and Opinions of Herr Teufelsdrockh,' hourly advancing. Of our fitness for the Enterprise, to which we have 25 such title and vocation, it were perhaps uninteresting to say more. Let the British reader study and enjoy, in simplicity of heart, wITST^TlT^fe^resented him, and with whatever metaphysical acumen, and talent for meditation he is possessed of. Let him strive to keep a free, open 30 sense ; cleared from the mists of prejudice, above all from the paralysis of cant; and directed rather to the Book itself than to the Editor of the Book. Who or ;> lO SARTOR RESARTUS. what such Editor may be, must remain conjectural, and even insigniticant :' it is a voice publishing tidings of the Philosophy of Clothes ; undoubtedly a Spirit address- ing Spirits : whoso hath ears, let him hear. 5 On one other point the Editor thinks it needful to give warning : namely, that he is animated with a true though perhaps a feeble attachment to the Institutions of our Ancestors ; and minded to defend these, according to ability, at all hazards ; nay, it was partly with a view lo to such defence that he engaged in this undertaking. To stem, or if that be impossible, profitably to divert the current of Innovation, such a Volume as Teufelsdrockh's, if cunningly planted down, were no despicable pile, or floodgate, in the logical wear. 15 For the rest, be it no wise apprehended, that any personal connexion of ours with Teufelsdrockh, Heu- schrecke, or this Philosophy of Clothes, can pervert our judgment, or sway us to extenuate or exaggerate. Power- less, we venture to promise, are those private Com- 20 pliments themselves. Grateful they may well be ; as generous illusions of friendship ; as fair mementos of bygone unions, of those nights and suppers of the Gods, when lapped in the symphonies and harmonies of Philo- sopliic Eloquence, though with baser accompaniments, 25 the present Editor revelled in that feast of reason, never since vouchsafed him in so full measure ! But what then? Afnicus Plato, viagis a7?iica Veritas; Teufelsdrockh is our friend, Truth is our divinity. In our historical and critical capacity, we hope we are strangers to all the 30 world ; have feud or favour with no one, — save indeed the Devil, with whom, as with the Prince of Lies and Darkness, we do at all times wage internecine war. ^ With us even he still communicates in some sort of mask, or muffler, and, we have reason to think, under a feigned name ' D. V. REMINISCENCES. i j This assurance, at an epoch when puffery and quackery have reached a height unexampled in the annals of man- kind, and even English Editors, like Chinese Shop- keepers, must write on their door-lintels, No cheating here, — we thought it good to premise. CHAPTER III. REMINISCENCES. To the Author's private circle the appearance of this singular Work on Clothes must have occasioned little less surprise than it has to the rest of the world. For ourselves, at least, few things have been more unex- pected. Professor Teufelsdrockh, at the period of our lo acquaintance with him, seemed to lead a quite still and self-contained life : a man devoted to the higher Philoso- phies, indeed ; yet more likely, if he published at all, to publish a Refutation of Hegel and Bardili, both of whom, strangely enough, he included under a common 15 ban ; than to descend, as he has here done, into the angry noisy Forum, with an Argument that cannot but exasperate and divide. Not, that we can remember, was the Philosophy of Clothes once touched upon between us. If through the high, silent, meditative Transcenden- 20 talism of our Friend we detected any practical tendency whatever, it was at most Political, and towards a certain prospective, and for the present quite speculative, Rad- icalism ; as indeed some correspondence, on his part, with Herr Oken of Jena was now and then suspected ; 25 though his special contributions to the Isis could never be more than surmised at. But, at all events, nothing J 3 SARTOR RESARTUS. Moral, still less anything Didactico-Religious, was looked for from him. Well do we recollect the last words he spoke in our hearing ; which indeed, with the Night they were uttered 5 in, are to be forever remembered. Lifting his huge tum- bler of Gttk^uk,^ and for a moment lowering his tobacco- l)ipe, he stood up in full coffeehouse (it was Zicr Grune?i a tins, the largest in Wcissnichtwo, where all the Virtuos- ity, and nearly all the Intellect of the place assembled \o of an evening); and there, with low, soul-stirring tone, and the look truly of an angel, though whether of a white or of a black one might be dubious, proposed this toast: Die Sni/ie der Annen in Gottes und Teufels Nameii (The Cause of the Poor in Heaven's name and 's)! One 15 full shout, breaking the leaden silence ; then a gurgle of innumerable emptying bumpers, again followed by univer- sal cheering, returned him loud acclaim. It was the finale of the night : resuming their pipes ; in the highest enthusiasm, amid volumes of tobacco-smoke ; triumphant, zo cloud-capt without and within, the assembly broke up, each to his thoughtful pillow. Blciht dock cin echter Spass- und Galgcu- Vo^d, said several ; meaning thereby that, one day, he would probably be hanged for his democratic sen- timents. JVo stcckt dock der Schalkl added they, looking 25 round : but Teufelsdrockh had retired by private alleys,. and the Compiler of these pages beheld him no more. In such scenes has it been our lot to live with this Philosopher, such estimate to form of his purposes and powers. And yet. thou brave Teufelsdrockh, who could 30 tell what lurked in thee? Under those thick locks of thine, so long and lank, overlapping roof-wise the gravest face we ever in this world saw, there dwelt a most busy brain. In thy eyes too, deep under their shaggy brows, * Gukguk is unhappily only an academical — beer. REMINISCENCES. 13 and lookino: out so still and dreamy, have we not noticed ! . '^l gleams of an ethereal or else a diabolic fire, and half- i fancied that their stillness was but the rest of infinite (. motion, the sleep of a spinning-top ? Thy little figure, there as, in loose ill-brushed threadbare habiliments, 5 thou sattest, amid litter and lumber, whole days, to 'think and smoke tobacco,' held in it a mighty heart. The secrets of man's Life were laid open to thee ; thou sawest into the mystery of the Universe, farther than another ; thou hadst iti petto thy remarkable Volume on Clothes. Nay, 10 were there not in that clear logicall3^-founded Transcen- dentalism of thine ; still more, in thy meek, silent, deep- seated ^^ans-culottism, combined with a true princely Courtesy of inward nature, the visible rudiments of such speculation? But great men are too often unknown, or 15 vv^hat is worse, misknown. Already, when we dreamed not of it, the warp of thy remarkable Volume lay on the loom; and silently, mysterious shuttles were putting-in the woof ! How the Hofrath Heuschrecke is to furnish biograph- ical data in this case, may be a curious question ; the 20 answer of which, however, is happily not our concern, but his. To us it appeared, after repeated trial, that in Weissnichtwo, from the archives or memories of the best- informed classes, no Biography of Teufelsdrockh was to be gathered ; not so much as a false one. He was a 25 stranger there, wafted thither by what is called the course of circumstances ; concerning whose parentage, birth- place, prospects, or pursuits, curiosity had indeed made inquiries, but satisfied herself with the most indistinct replies. For himself, he was a man so still and altogether 30 unparticipating, that to question him even afar off on such particulars was a thing of more than usual delicacy: besides, in his sly way, he had ever some quaint turn, not without its satirical edge, wherewith to divert such intru- ,^ SAKTOK KESARTUS. sions, and deter you from the like. Wits spoke of him secretly as if he were a kind of Melchizedek, without father or mother of any kind; sometimes, with reference to his great historic and statistic knowledge, and the vivid 5 way he had of expressing himself like an eye-witness of distant transactions and scenes, they called him the Ku'i^c Judi\ Everlasting, or as we say. Wandering Jew. To the most, indeed, he had become not so much a Man as a Thing; which Thing doubtless they were accustomed lo to see, and witii satisfaction ; but no more thought of accounting for than for the fabrication of their daily Alli^emcinc Zciiung, or the domestic habits of the Sun. Both were there and welcome ; the world enjoyed what good was in them, and thought no more of the matter. 15 The man 'leufelsdrockh passed and repassed, in his little circle, as one of those originals and nondescripts, more frequent in German Universities than elsewhere; of whom, though you see them alive, and feel certain enough that they must have a History, no History seems to be dis- 20 coverable ; or only such as men give of mountain rocks and antediluvian ruins: That they have been created by unknown agencies, are in a state of gradual decay, and for the present reflect light and resist pressure ; that is, are visible and tangible objects in this phantasm world, 25 where so much other mystery is. It was to be remarked that though, by title and diploma, -" J'rofcssor dcr Allcrley- Wissenschaft^ or as we should say in j English, ' Professor of Things in General,' he had never delivered any Course ; perhaps never been incited thereto 30 by any public furtherance or requisition. To all appear- ance, the enlightened Government of Weissnichtwo. in • founding their New University, imagined they had done enough, if 'in times like ours,' as the half-official Program expressed it, ' when all things are, rapidly or slowly, re- REMINISCENCES. ir ' solving themselves into Chaos, a Professorship of this ' kind had been estabhshed ; whereby, as occasion called, ? ' the task of bodying somewhat forth again from such / ' Chaos might be, even slightly, facilitated.' That actual Lectures should be held, and Public Classes for the ' Sci- 5 ence of Things in General,' they doubtless considered premature ; on which ground too they had only established the Professorship, nowise endowed it ; so that Teufels- * drockh, 'recommended by the highest Names,' had been_^ promoted thereby to a Name merely. 10 _^ Great, among the more enlightened classes, was the admiration of this new Professorship: how an enlightened Government had seen into the Want of the Age {Zeit- bcdiirfniss) ; how at length, instead of Denial and De- struction, we were to have a science of Affirmation and 15 Reconstruction; and Germany and Weissnichtwo were where they should be, in the vanguard of the world. Considerable also was the wonder at the new Professor, dropt opportunely enough into the nascent University ; so able to lecture, should occasion call ; so ready to hold -o his peace for indefinite periods, should an enlightened Government consider that occasion did not call. But such admiration and such wonder, being followed by no act to keep them living, could last only nine days ; and long before our visit to that scene, had quite died away. 23 The more cunning heads thought it was all an expiring clutch at popularity, on the part of a Minister, whom domestic embarrassments, court intrigues, old age, and dropsy soon afterwards finally drove from the helm. As for Teufelsdrockh, except by his nightly appearances 3^ at the Griine Gans, Weissnichtwo saw little of him, felt little of him. Here, over his tumbler of Gukguk, he sat reading Journals ; sometimes contemplatively looking into the clouds of his tobacco-pipe, without other visible ,6 SARTOR RESARTUS. employment: always, from his mild ways, an agreeable phenomenon there ; more especially when he opened his lips for speech ; on which occasions the whole Coffee- house would hush itself into silence, as if sure to hear 5 something noteworthy. Nay, perhaps to hear a whole series and river of the most memorable utterances ; such as, when once thawed, he would for hours indulge in, with tit audience : and the more memorable, as issuing from a head apparently not more interested in them, not more lo conscious of them, than is the sculptured stone head of some public Fountain, which through its brass mouth-tube emits water to the worthy and the unworthy ; careless whether it be for cooking victuals or quenching conflagra- tions ; indeed, maintains the same earnest, assiduous look, 15 whether any water be flowing or not. To the Editor of these sheets, as to a young enthusi- astic Englishman, however unw^orthy. Teufelsdrockh opened himself perhaps more than to the most. Pity only that we could not then half guess his importance, 20 and scrutinise him with due power of vision ! We enjoyed, what not three men in W'eissnichtwo could boast of, a certain degree of access to the Professor's private domicile, /it was the attic floor of the highest ' house in the Wahngasse ; and might truly be called the ^5 pinnacle of Weissnichtwo, for it rose sheer up above the ^ contiguous roofs, themselves rising from elevated ground. , Moreover, with its windows, it looked towards all the ^ four (9r/<',jor as the Scotch say, and we ought to say, Airts : the Sitting-room itself commanded three ; another 30 came to view in the Schlafi^cviach (Red-room) at the opposite end ; to say nothing of the Kitchen, which offered two, as it were duplicates, and showing nothing ^ new. So that it was in fact the speculum or watch-tower ^ of Teufelsdrockh ; wherefrom, sitting at ease, he might REMINISCENCES. 1 7 see the whole life-circulation of that considerable City ; the streets and lanes of which, with all their doing and driving {Thun imd Treibeii)., were for the most part visible there. " I look down into all that wasp-nest or bee-hive," 5 have we heard him say, " and witness their wax-laying " and honey-making, and poison-brewing, and choking by " sulphur. From the Palace esplanade, where music " plays while Serene Highness is pleased to eat his "victuals, down to the low lane, where in her door-sill 10 " the aged widow, knitting for a thin livelihood, sits to " feel the afternoon sun, I see it all ; for, except the " Schlosskirche weathercock, no biped stands so high. " Couriers arrive bestrapped and bebooted, bearing Joy "and Sorrow bagged-up in pouches of leather; there, 15 " topladen, and with four swift horses, rolls-in the country " Baron and his household ; here, on timber-leg, the " lamed Soldier hops painfully along, begging alms : a " thousand carriages, and wains, and cars, come tumbling- " in with Food, with young Rusticity, and other Raw 20 " Produce, inanimate or animate, a nd^g o tumbling out " again with Produce manufactured.' That living flood, ^. " pouring through these streets, of all qualities and ages, " knowest thou whence it is coming, whither it is going ? \' Aus de?' Ewigkeit, zu der Ewigkeit kin: From Eternity, 2^ j" onward to Eternity ! These are Apparitions : what " else ? Are they not souls rendered visible ; in Bodies, . r that took shape and will lose it, melting into air ? Their solid pavement is a Picture of the Sense ; they . ** walk on the bosom of Nothing, blank Time is behind 30 " them and before them. Or fanciest thou, the red and \ "yellow Clothes-screen yonder, with spurs on its heels, "and feather in its crown, is but of Today, without a ^ f Yesterday or a Tomorrow ; and had not rather its ,g SARTOR RESARTUS. '/'Ancestor alive when Hengst and Horsa overran thy 1 " Island ? Friend, thou seest here a living link in that ["Tissue of History, which inweaves all Being: watch " well, or it will be past thee, and seen no more." ". ■/<•//, mi'in Jjcbtr!'' said he once, at midnight, when he had returned from the Coffee-house in rather earnest talk, "it is a true sublimity to dwell here. These fringes of lamp-light, struggling up through smoke and thousandfold exhalation, some fathoms into the ancient reign of Night, what thinks Bootes of them, as he leads his Hunting-Dogs over the Zenith, in their leash of sidereal fire ? That stified hum of Midnight, when Traffic has lain down to rest; and the chariot-wheels of Vanity, still rolling here and there through distant streets, are bearing her to Halls roofed-in, and lighted to the due pitch for her ; and only Vice and Misery, to prowl or to moan like nightbirds, are abroad ; that hum I say, like the stertorous, unquiet slumber of sick Life, is heard in Heaven ! Oh, under that hideous coverlet of vapours, and putrefactions, and unimaginable gases, what a Fermenting-vat lies simmering and hid ! The joyful and the sorrowful are there ; men are dying there, men are being born, men are praying, — on the other side of a brick partition, men are cursing ; and around them all is the vast, void Night. The proud Grandee still lingers in his perfumed saloons, or reposes within damask curtains ; Wretchedness cowers into truckle- beds, or shivers hunger-stricken into its lair of straw : in obscure cellars, Rougc-ct-Noir languidly emits its voice- of-destiny to haggard hungry Villains ; wiiile Councillors of State sit plotting, and playing their high chess-game, whereof the pawns are Men.^ The Lover whispers his mistress that the coach is ready; and she, full of hope and fear, glides down, to fly with him over the borders ; REMINISCENCES. i^ the Thief, still more silently, sets-to his picklocks and crowbars, or lurks in wait till the watchmen first snore in their boxes. \Gay mansions, with supper-rooms, and dancing-rooms, are full of light and music and high- swelling hearts ; but, in the Condemned Cells, the pulse 5 of life beats tremulous and faint, and bloodshot eyes look-out through the darkness, which is around and within, for the light of a stern last morningy^ Six men are to be hanged on the morrow : comes no hammering from the Rabenstein ? — their gallows must even now be 10 o' building. Upwards of five-hundred-thousand two- legged animals without feathers lie around us, in hori- zontal positions; their heads all in nightcaps, and full of the foolishest dreams. Riot cries aloud, and staggers and swaggers in his rank dens of shame; and the 15 Mother, with streaming hair, kneels over her pallid dying infant, whose cracked lips only her tears now moisten. — All these heaped and huddled together, with nothing but a little carpentry and masonry between them ; — . crammed in, like salted fish, in their barrel ; 20 or weltering, shall I say, like an Egyptian pitcher of tamed Vipers, each struggling to get its head above the others : such work goes on under that smoke-counterpane! — But I, 7?iein Werther, sit above it all; I am alone with the Stars." We looked in his face to see whether, in the utterance of such extraordinary Night-thoughts, no feeling might be traced there ; but with the light we had, which indeed was only a single tallow-light, and far enough from the window, nothing save that old calmness and fixedness was visible. These were the Professor's talking seasons: most com- monly he spoke in mere monosyllables, or sat altogether silent and smoked : while the visitor had liberty either to 20 SARTOR RESAKTUS. say what he listed, receiving for answer an occasional grunt ; or to look round for a space, and then take him- self away. It was a strange apartment; full of books and tattered papers, and miscellaneous shreds of all con- 5 ceivable substances, ' united in a common element of dust.' Books lay on tables, and below tables; here fluttered a sheet of manuscript, there a torn handkerchief, or nightcap hastily thrown aside ; ink-bottles alternated with bread-crusts, coffee-pots, tobacco-boxes. Periodical 10 Literature, and liliicher Boots. Old Lieschen (Lisekin, Liza), whu was his bed-maker and stove-lighter, his washer and wringer, cook, errand-maid, and general Hon's-provider, and for the rest a very orderly creature, had no sovereign authority in this last citadel of Teufels- 15 drockh ; only some once in the month, she half-forcibly niatle iier way thither, with broom and duster, and (Teufelsdrockh hastily saving his manuscripts) effected a partial clearance, a jail-delivery of such lumber as was not Literary. These were her Erdbeben (Earthquakes), _'o which Teufelsdrockh dreaded worse than the pestilence ; nevertheless, to such length he had been forced to com- ply. Glad would he have been to sit here philosophising forever, or till the litter, by accumulation, drove him out of doors : but Lieschen was his right-arm, and spoon, -'5 and necessary of life, and would not be flatly gainsayed. We can still remember the ancient woman: so silent that some thought her dumb ; deaf also you would often have supposed her; for Teufelsdrockh, and Teufelsdrockh only, would she serve or give heed to ; and with him she JO seemed to communicate chiefly by signs ; if it were not rather by some secret divination that she guessed all his wants, and supplied them. Assiduous old dame ! she scoured, and sorted, and swept, in her kitchen, with the least possible violence to the ear ; yet all was tight and REMINISCENCES. 2 1 right there ; hot and black came the coffee ever at the due moment ; and the speechless Lieschen herself looked out on you, from under her clean white coif with its lappets, through her clean withered face and wrinkles, with a look of helpful intelligence, almost of benevolence. 5 Few strangers, as above hinted, had admittance hither: the only one we ever saw there, ourselves excepted, was the Hofrath_ Heuschrecke, already known, by name and expectation, to the readers of these pages. To us, at that period, Herr Heuschrecke seemed one of those purse- 10 mouthed, crane-necked, clean-brushed pacific individuals, perhaps sufficiently distinguished in society by this fact, that, in dry weather or in wet, ' they never appear with- out their umbrella.' Had we not known with what 'little wisdom ' the world is governed ; and how, in Germany as 15 elsewhere, the ninety-and-nine Public Men can for most part be but mute train-bearers to the hundredth, perhaps but stalking-horses and willing or unwilling dupes, — it might have seemed wonderful how Herr Heuschrecke should be named a Rat/i, or Councillor, and Counsellor, 20 even in Weissnichtwo. What counsel to any man, or to any woman, could this particular Hofrath give ; in whose loose, zigzag figure ; in whose thin visage, as it went jerking to and fro, in minute incessant fluctuation, — you traced rather confusion worse confounded ; at most, 25 Timidity and physical Cold ? Some indeed said withal, he was ' the very Spirit of Love embodied ' : blue earnest eyes, ful^of sadness and kindness ; purse ever open, and • so forth ; the whole of which, we shall now hope, for many reasons, was not quite groundless. Nevertheless friend 30 Teufelsdrockh's outline, who indeed handled the burin like few in these cases, was probably the best : Er hat Gemiith unci Geist, hat wenigstens gehabt, doch ohiie Organ^ ohne Schicksals- Giinst; ist gegenwdrtig alter halb-zerriittet, 2 2 SAKTOK RESARTUS. hally-erstarrt, " He has heart and talent, at least has had " such, yet without fit mode of utterance, or favour of " Fortune ; and so is now half-cracked, half-congealed." — What the Hofrath shall think of this when he sees it, 5 readers may wonder: we, safe in the stronghold of His- torical Fidelity, are careless. The main point, doubtless, for us all, is his love of Teufelsdrockh, which indeed was also by far the most decisive feature of Heuschrecke himself. We are enabled lo to assert that he hung on the Professor with the fondness of a Boswell for his Johnson. And perhaps with the like return ; for Teufelsdrockh treated his gaunt admirer with little outward regard, as some half-rational or altogether irrational friend, and at best loved him out of gratitude 13 ajid by habit. On the other hand, it was curious to ol)serve with what reverent kindness, and a sort of fatherly protection, our Hofrath, being the elder, richer, and as he fondly imagined far more practically influential of the two, looked and tended on his little Sage, whom 20 he seemed to consider as a living oracle. Let but Teufelsdrockh open his mouth, Heuschrecke's also un- puckered itself into a free doorway, besides his being all eye and all ear, so that nothing might be lost : and then, at every pause in the harangue, he gurgled-out his pursy 25 chuckle of a cough-laugh (for the machinery of laughter took some time to get in motion, and seemed crank and slack), or else his twanging nasal, Biavo ! Das glaub' ich ; . in either case, by way of heartiest approval.*^ In short, if Teufelsdrockh was Dalai -Lama, of which, except 30 perhaps in his self-seclusion, and god-like Indifference, there was no symptom, then might Heuschrecke pass for his chief Talapoin, to whom no dough-pill he could knead and publish was other than medicinal and sacred. CHA RA C TERIS TICS. 2 3 In such environment, social, domestic, physical, did Teufelsdrockh, at the time of our acquaintance, and most likely does he still, live and meditate. Here, perched-up in his high Wahngasse watch-tower, and often, in solitude, outwatching the Bear, it was that the indom- 5 itable Inquirer fought all his battles with Dulness and Darkness ; here, in all probability, that he wrote this surprising Volume on Clothes. Additional particulars : of his age, which was of that standing middle sort you could only guess at ; of his wide surtout ; the colour of 10 his trousers, fashion of his broad-brimmed steeple-hat, and so forth, we might report, but do not. The Wisest truly is, in these times, the Greatest ; so that an enlight- ened curiosity, leaving Kings and suchlike to rest very much on their own basis, turns more and more to the 15 Philosophic Class : nevertheless, what reader expects that, with all our writing and reporting, Teufelsdrockh could be brought home to him, till once the Documents arrive ? His Life, Fortunes, and Bodily Presence, are as yet hidden from us, or matter only of faint conjecture. 20 But, on the other hand, does not his Soul lie enclosed in this remarkable Volume, much more truly than Pedro Garcias' did in the buried Bag of Doubloons ? To the soul of Diogenes Teufelsdrockh, to his opinions, namely, on the ' Origin and Influence of Clothes,' we for the 25 present gladly return. CHAPTER IV. CHARACTERISTICS. It were a piece of vain flattery to pretend that this Work on Clothes entirely contents us ; that it is not, like 2^ SARTOR RESARTUS. all works of genius, like the very Sun, which, though the highest published Creation, or work of genius, has never- theless black spots and troubled nebulosities amid its effulgence, — a mixture of insight, inspiration, with dul- 5 ness, double-vision, and even utter blindness. Without committing ourselves to those enthusiastic praises and prophcsyings of the Weissnichhuo' sche Anzei- ^ gcr, we admitted that the Book had in a high degree \ ' excited us to self-activity, whicMs the best effect of any iVbook; that it had even operated changes in our way of thought ; nay, that it promised to prove, as it were, the opening of a new mine-shaft, wherein the whole world, of Speculation might henceforth dig to unknown depths. More specially it may now be declared that Professor 15 Teufelsdrockh's acquirements, patience of research, phil- osophic and even poetic vigour, are here made indisputably manifest ; and unhappily no less his prolixity and tortu- osity and manifold ineptitude; that, on the whole, as in opening new mine-shafts is not unreasonable, there is 20 much rubbish in his Book, though likewise specimens of almost invaluable ore. A paramount popularity in Eng- land we cannot promise him. Apart from the choice of such a topic as Clothes, too often the manner of treating it betokens in the Author a rusticity and academic 25 seclusion, unblamable, indeed inevitable in a German, but fatal to his success with our public. — Of good society Teufelsdrockh appears to have seen little, or has mostly forgotten what he saw. He speaks- lout with a strange plainness ; calls many things by their Imere dictionary-names. To him the Upholsterer is no Pontiff, neither is any Drawing-room a Temple, were it never so begilt and overhung : ' a whole immensity of ' Brussels carpets, and pier glasses, and or-molu,' as he himself expresses it, ' cannot hide from me that such CHAR A CTERISTICS. 25 * Drawing-room is simply a section of Infinite Space, 'where so many God-created Souls do for the time meet ' together.' To Teufelsdrockh the highest Duchess is respectable, is venerable ; but nowise for her pearl brace- lets, and Malines laces : in his eyes, the star of a Lord is 5 little less and little more than the broad button of Bir- mingham spelter in a Clown's smock ; ' each is an imple- . ' ment,' he says, * in its kind ; a tag for hooking-together ; ' and, for the rest, was dug from the earth and hammered 'on a stithy before smith's fingers.' Thus does the Pro- 10 fessor look in men^ faces with a strange impartiality, a strange scientific freedom ; like a man unversed in the higher circles, like a man dropped thither from the Moon. Rightly considered, it is in this peculiarity, running through his whole system of thought, that all these short- 15 comings, over-shootings, and multiform perversities, take rise : if indeed they have not a second source, also natural enough, in his Transcendental Philosophies, and humour of looking at all Matter and Material things as Spirit ; whereby truly his case were but the more hope- 20 less, the more lamentable. To the Thinkers of this nation, however, of which class it is firmly believed there are individuals yet extant, we can safely recommend the Work : nay, who knows but among the fashionable ranks too, if it be true, as Teufels- 25 drockh maintains, that ' within the most starched cravat ' there passes a windpipe and weasand, and under the 'thickliest embroidered waistcoat beats a heart,' — the force^f that rapt earnestness may be felt, and here and there an arrow of the soul pierce through. ^ In our wild 30 Seer, shaggy, unkempt, like a Baptist living on locusts and wild honey, there is an untutored energy, a silent, as it were unconscious, strength, which, except in the higher walks of Literature, must be rare. ' Many a deep glance. ,5 SARTOR RESARTUS. and often with unspeakable precision, has .Ije cast into mysterious Nature, and the still more mysterious Life of Man. Wonderful it is with what cutting \vords, now and then, he severs asunder the confusion ; sheers down, 5 were it furlongs deep, into the true centre of the matter ; and there not only hits the nail on the head, but with crushing force smites 'U home, and buries it. ^ On the other hand, let us be ^ee to admit, he is the most unequal writer breathing. Often after some such feat, lo he will play truant for long pages, and go dawdling and dreaming, and mumbling and maundering the merest commonplaces, as if he were asleep with eyes open, which indeed he is. Of his boundless Learning, and how all reading and 15 literature in most known tongues, from Sanchoniathon to Dr. J.ini^cirJ, from your Oriental S/iasters, and Tabnuds^ and Korans, with Cassini's Siamese Tables^ and Laplace's Mecanique Celeste dow^n to Robinson Crusoe and the Belfast Town and Country Almanack^ are familiar to him, — we 20 shall say nothing : [for unexampled as it is with us, to the Germans such universality of study passes without wonder, as a thing commendable, indeed, but natural, indispens- able, and there of course. ' A man that devotes his life to learning, shall he not be learned ? 25 In respect of st^e our Author manifests the same genial capability, marred too often by the same rudeness, iiit buttressed-up by props (of parentheses and dashes), and ever with this or the other tagrag hanging from them ; a few even sprawl-out helplessly on all sides, quite 10 broken-backed and dismembered.;) Nevertheless, in al- j most his very worst moods, there lies in him a singular I y attraction. A wild tone pervades the whole utterance of the man, like its keynote and regulator ; now screwing itself aloft as into the Song of Spirits, or else the shrill 115 mockery'of Fiends ; now sinking in cadences, not without melodious heartiness, though sometimes abrupt enough, into the common pitch, when we hear it only as a monotonous hum ; of which hum the true character is extremely difficult to fix.fc| Up to this hour we have never 20 -=: fully satisfied ourselves whether it is a tone and hum of real Humour, which we reckon among the very highest j quairties of genius, or some echo of mere Insanity and i Inanity, which doubtless ranks below the very lowest. -t::^ . Under a like difficulty, in spite even of our personal 25 intercourse, do we still lie with regard to the Professor's moral feeling. Gleams of an ethereal love burst forth from him, soft wailings of infinite pity ; he could clasp the whole Universe into his bosom, and keep it warm ; it seems as if under that rude exterior there dwelt a very 3° seraph. Then again he is so sly and still, so imper- turbably saturnine ; shows such indifference, malign cool- ness towards all that men strive after; and ever with -seme half-visible wrinkle of a bitter sardonic humour, if 28 SARTOR RESARTUS. indeed it be not mere stolid callousness, — that you look on him almost with a shudder, as on some incarnate Mephistopheles, to whom this great terrestrial and celes- tial Round, after all, were but some huge foolish Whirligig, 5 where kings and beggars, and angels and demons, and stars and street-sweepings, were chaotically whirled, in which only children could take interest. His look, as w^e mentioned, is probably the gravest ever seen : yet it is not of that cast-iron gravity frequent enough among our 10 own Chancery suitors ; but rather the gravity as of some silent, high-encircled mountain-pool, perhaps the crater of an extinct volcano : into whose black deeps you fear to gaze : those eyes, those lights that sparkle in it, may indeed be refiexes of the heavenly Stars, but perhaps 15 also glances from the region of Nether Fire ! Certainly a most involved, self-secluded, altogether enigmatic nature, this of Teufelsdrockh ! Here, however, we gladly recall to mind that once we saw him laugh; once only, perhaps it was the first and last time in his 20 life ; but then such a peal of laughter, enough to have awakened the Seven Sleepers ! It was of Jean Paul's doing : some single billow in that vast World-Mahlstrom of Humour, with its heaven-kissing coruscations, which is now, alas, all congealed in the frost of death ! The 25 large-bodied Poet and the small, both large enough in soul, sat talking miscellaneously together, the present Editor being privileged to listen ; and now Paul, in his serious way, was giving one of those inimitable ' Extra- ' harangues'; and, as it chanced. On the Proposal for a 30 Cast-metal King: gradually a light kindled in our Pro- fessor's eyes and face, a beaming, mantling, loveliest light ; through those murky features, a radiant ever-young Apollo looked ; and he burst forth like the neighing of all Tattersall's, — tears streaming down his cheeks, pipe CHAKA C TERIS TICS. 2 o held aloft, foot clutched into the air, — loud, long-con- tinuing, uncontrollable ; a laugh not of the face and diaphragm only, but of the whole man from head to heel. The present Editor, who laughed indeed, yet with measure, began to fear all was not right : however, Teufelsdrockh^ 5 composed himself, and sank into his old stilness ; on his inscrutable countenance there was, if anything, a slight look of shame ; and-Richter himself could not rouse him again. Readers who have any tincture of Psychology know how much is to be inferred from this ; and that no 10 ' man who has once heartily and wholly laughed can be ( altogether irreclaimably bad. How much lies in Laughter: \._ the cipher-key, wherewith we decipher the. whole man ! Some men wear an everlasting barren simper ; in the smile of others lies a cold glitter as of ice : the fewest are 15 able to laugh, what can be called laughing, but only sniff and titter and snigger from the throat outward ; or at best, produce some whiffling husky cachinnation, as if they were laughing through wool ; of none such comes good. The man who cannot laugh is not only fit for treasons, 20 j stratagems, and spoils ; but his whole life is already a treason and a stratagem. Considered as an author, Herr Teufelsdrockh has one «: — scarcely pardonable fault, doubtless his worst : 'an almost total want of arrangement. In this remarkable Volume, 25 it is true, his adherence to the mere course of Time pro- duces, through the Narrative portions, a certain show of outward method ; but of true logical method and sequence there is too little. Apart from its multifarious sections and subdivisions, the Work naturally falls into two Parts ; 30 a Historical-Descriptive, and a Philosophical-Speculativej__2i:> but falls, unhappily, by no firm line of demarcation ; in that labyrinthic combination, each Part overlaps, and indents, and indeed runs quite through the other. Many / ^o SARTOR RESARTUS. sections are of a debatable rubric, or even quite nonde- script and unnameable ; whereby the Book not only loses in accessibility, but too often distresses us like some mad banquet, wherein all courses had been confounded, and 5 tish and Hesh, soup and solid, oyster-sauce, lettuces, Rhine-wine and French mustard, were hurled into one huge tureen or trough, and the hungry Public invited to help itself. To bring what order we can out of this Chaos shall be part of our endeavour. CHAPTER V. THE WORLD IN CLOTHES. lo ' As Montesquieu wrote a Spirit of Laws,' observes our Professor, ' so could I write a Spirit of Clothes; thus, with an 'Esprit des Loix, properly an Esprit de Coiitumes, we ' should have an Esprit de Costmhes. For neither in ' tailoring nor in legislating does man proceed by mere 1 5 ' Accident, but the hand is ever guided on by mysterious ' operations of the mind. In all his Modes, and habilatory ' endeavours, an Architectural Idea will be found lurking ; ' his Body and the Cloth are the site and materials ' whereon and whereby his beautiful edifice, of a Person, 20 ' is to be built. Whether he flow gracefully out in folded ' mantles, based on light sandals ; tower-up in high head- * gear, from amid peaks, spangles and bell-girdles ; swell- ' out in starched ruffs, buckram stuffings and monstrous ' tuberosities ; or girth himself into separate sections, and 25 'front the world an Agglomeration of four limbs, — will ' depend on the nature of such Architectural Idea : 'whether Grecian, Gothic, Later-Gothic, or altogether THE_WORLD IN CLOTHES. 31 Modern, and Parisian or Anglo-Dandiacal. Again, what meaning lies in Colour ! From the soberest drab to the high-flaming scarlet, spiritual idiosyncrasies unfold themselves in choice of Colour : if the Cut betoken Intel- lect and Talent, so does the Colour betoken Temper and 5 Heart, -in all which, among nations as among indi- viduals, there is an incessant, indubitable, though in- finitely complex working of Cause and Effect : every snip of the Scissors has been regulated and prescribed by ever-active Influences, which doubtless to Intelli- 10 gences of a superior order are neither invisible nor illegible. ' For such superior Intelligences a Cause-and-Effect Philosophy of Clothes, as of Laws, were probably a comfortable winter-evening entertainment : nevertheless, 15 for inferior Intelligences, like men, such Philosophies have always seemed to me uninstructive enough. Nay, what is your Montesquieu himself but a clever infaiil spelling Letters from a hieroglyphical prophetic Book, "'>v^^^ the lexicon of which lies in Eternity, in Heaven ? — Let 20 any Cause-and-Effect Philosopher explain, not why I wear such and such a Garment, obey such and such a Law ; but even why / am here., to wear and obey any thing ! — Much, therefore, if not the whole, of that same Spirit of Clothes I shall suppress, as hypothetical, 25 ineffectual, and even impertinent : naked Facts, and Deductions drawn therefrom in quite another than that omniscient style, are my humbler and proper province.' Acting on which prudent restriction, Teufelsdrockh has nevertheless contrived to take-in a well-nigh boundless 30 extent of field ; at least, the boundaries too often lie quite beyond our horizon. Selection being indispensable, we shall here glance-over his First Part only in the most cursory manner. This First Part is, no doubt, dis- -2 SAR70R KESAKTUS. tinguishcd by omnivorous learning, and utmost patience and fairness : at the same time, in its results and delinea- tions, it is much more likely to interest the Compilers of some Library of General, Entertaining, Useful, or even 5 Useless Knowledge than the miscellaneous readers of these pages. Was it this Part of the Book which Heu- schrecke had in view, when he recommended us to that joint-stock vehicle of publication, ' at present the glory 'of British Literature'? If so, the Library Editors are 10 welcome to dig: in it for their own behoof. To the First Chapter, which turns on Paradise and Fig-leaves, and leads us into interminable disquisitions of a mythological, metaphorical, cabalistico-sartorial and quite antediluvian cast, we shall content ourselves with 15 giving an unconcerned approval. Still less have we to ido with ' Lilis, Adam's first wife, whom, according to the ' Talmudists, he had before Eve, and who bore him, in ' that wedlock, the whole progeny of aerial, aquatic, and ' terrestrial Devils,' — very needlessly, we think. On this 20 portion of the Work, with its profound glances into the A(/atn-Ka(hfion, or Primeval Element, here strangely brought into relation with the Ni/I and Muspel (Darkness and Light] of the antique North, it may be enough to say that its correctness of deduction, and depth of 25 Talmudic and Rabbinical lore have filled perhaps not the worst Hebraist in Britain with somethins: like aston- ishment. But, quitting this twilight region, Teufelsdrockh hastens from the Tower of Babel, to follow the dispersion of 30 Mankind over the whole habitable and habilable globe. Walking by the light of Oriental, Pelasgic, Scandina\^Tanr Egyptian, Otaheitcan, Ancient and Modern researches of every conceivable kind, he strives to give us in compressed shape (as the N.iirnbergers give an Orbis Pictus) an Orbis THE WORLD IN CLOTHES. 2^1 Vestitus ; or view of the costumes of all mankind, in all countries, in all times. It is here that to the Antiquarian, to the Historian, we can triumphantly say : Fall to ! Here is Learning : an irregular Treasury, if you will ; but inexhaustible as the Hoard of King Nibelung, which twelve wagons in twelve days, at the rate of three journeys a day, could not carry off. Sheepskin cloaks and wam- pum belts ; phylacteries, stoles, albs ; chlamydes, togas, Chinese silks, Afghaun shawls, trunk-hose, leather"^ breeches, Celtic philibegs (though breeches, as the name i( Gallia Braccata indicates, are the more ancient). Hussar cloaks, Vandyke tippets, ruffs, fardingales, are brou^ vividly before us, — even the Kilmarnock nightcap is not forgotten. For most part too we must admit that the Learning, heterogeneous as it is, and tumbled-down quite 15 pell-mell, is true concentrated and purified Learning, the drossy parts smelted out and thrown aside. Philosophical reflections intervene, and sometimes touching pictures of human life. Of this sort the follow- ing has surprised us. The first purpose of clothes, as 20 our Professor imagines, was not warmth or decency, but ornament. 'Miserable indeed,' says he, 'was the con- edition of the Aboriginal Savage, glaring fiercely from ' under his fleece of hair, which with the beard reached 'down to his loins, and hung round him like a matted 25 'cloak ; the rest of his body sheeted in its thick natural 'fell. He loitered in the sunny glades of the forest, 'living on wild fruits ; or, as the ancient Caledonian, ' squatted himself in morasses, lurking for his bestial or ' human prey ; without implements, without arms, save 30 ' the ball of heavy Flint, to which, that his sole possession ' and defence might not be lost, he had attached a long ' cord of plaited thongs ; thereby recovering as well as 'hurling it with deadly unerring skill. Nevertheless, the ^^ SAKTOR KESARTCS. pains of Hunger and Revenge once satisfied, his next care was not Comfort but Decoration {Putz). Warmth he found in the toils of the chase ; or amid dried leaves in his hollow tree, in his bark shed, or natural grotto : but for Decoration he must have Clothes. Nay, among wild people, we find tattooing and painting even prior to Clothes. The first spiritual want of a barbarous man is Decoration, as indeed we still see among the barbarous classes in civilised countries. ' Reader, the heaven-inspired melodious Singer; loftiest Serene Highness ; nay, thy own amber-locked, snow-and- rose-bloom Maiden, worthy to glide sylphlike almost on air, whom thou lovest, worshippest as a divine Presence, which, indeed, symbolically taken, she is, — has descended, like thyself, from that same hair-mantled, flint-hurling Aboriginal Anthropophagus ! Out of the eater cometh forth meat ; out of the strong cometh forth sweetness. What changes are wrought, not by Time, yet in Time ! For not Mankind only, but all that Mankind does or beholds, is in continual growth, regenesis and self- perfecting vitality. Cast forth thy Act, thy Word, into the ever-living, ever-working Universe : it_is a seed-grain that cannot die ; unnoticed today (says one), it will be found flourishing as a Banyan-grove (perhaps, alas, as a Hemlock-forest !) after a thousand years. ' He who first shortened the labour of Copyists by device of Afo7-ab/€ Types was disbanding hired Armies, and cashiering most Kings and Senates, and creating a whole new Democratic world : he had invented the Art of Printing. The first ground handful of Nitre, Sulphur, and Charcoal drove Monk Schwartz's pestle through the ceiling; what will the last do? Achieve the final undis- puted prostration of Force under Thought, of Animal courage under Spiritual, A simple invention it was in THE WORLD IN CLOTHES. 3^ the old-world Grazier, — sick of lugging his slow Ox about the country till he got it bartered for corn or oil, — to take a piece of Leather, and thereon scratch or stamp the mere Figure of an Ox (or Pecus) ; put it in his pocket, and call it Feciuiia, Money. Yet hereby did 5 Barter grow Sale, the Leather Money is now Golden and Paper^ and all miracles have been out-miracled : for there are Rothschilds and English National Debts; and whoso has sixpence is Sovereign (to the length of sixpence) over all men ; commands cooks to feed him, 10 philosophers to teach him, kings to mount guard over him — to the length of sixpence. — Clothes, too, which began in foolishest love of Ornament, what have the not become ! Increased Security, and pleasurable Heat soon followed: but what of these.? Shame, divine 15 Shame {Sc/iaam, Modesty), as yet a stranger to the Anthropophagous bosom, arose there mysteriously unde Clothes ; a mystic, grove-encircled shrine for the Holy in man. Clothes gave us individuality, distinctions, social polity; Clothes have made Men of us; they are 20 threatening to make Clothes-screens of us. ' But, on the whole,' continues our eloquent Professor, Man is a Tool-using Animal (^Handthierendes Thier). Weak in himself, and of small stature, he stands on a basis, at most for the flattest-soled, of some half-square 25 foot, insecurely enough ; has to straddle out his legs, lest the very wind supplant him. Feeblest of bipeds ! Three quintals are a crushing load for him ; the steer of the meadow tosses him aloft, like a waste rag. Nevertheless, he' can use Tools, can devise Tools : with 30 these the granite mountain melts into light dust before him ; he kneads glowing iron, as if it were soft paste ; seas are his smooth highway, winds and fire his unwearying steeds. Nowhere do you find him 36 6- A A' TOR RESARTUS. ' without Tools ; without Tools he is nothing, with Tools ' he is all.' Here may we not, for a moment, interrupt the stream of Oratory with a rcinark that this Definition of the Tool- 5 using Animal appears to us, of all that Animal-sort, con- siderably the precisest and best? Man is called a Laughing Animal : but do not the apes also laugh, or attempt to do it ; and is the manliest man the greatest and oftenest laugher ? Teufelsdrockh himself, as we said, JO laughed only once. Still less do we make of that other French Definition of the Cooking Animal ; which, indeed, for rigorous scientific purposes, is as good as useless. Can a Tartar be said to cook, when he only readies his steak l)y riding on it ? Again, what Cookery does the 15 (ireenlander use, beyond stowing-up his whale-blubber, as a marmot, in the like case, might do ? Or how would Monsieur Ude prosper among those Orinocco Indians, who, according to Humboldt, lodge in crow-nests, on the branches of trees ; and, for half the year, have no victuals 20 but pipe-clay, the whole country being under water ? r>ut, on the other hand, show us the human being, of any period or climate, without his Tools : those very Cale- donians, as we saw, had their Flint-ball, and Thong to it, such as no brute has or can have. 2^ ' Man is a Tool-using Animal,' concludes Teufelsdrockh, I in his abrupt way ; ' of which truth Clothes are but one I 'example : and surelv if we consider the interval between ! " 'the first w^ooden Dibble fashioned by man, and those ' Liverpool Steam-carriages, or the British House of 3a * Commons, we shall note what progress he has made. / ' He digs up certain black stones from the bosom of the / 'Earth, and says to them. Transport me a7id this luggage^ \jt the rate of fivr-and-thirty viilcs an hour; and they do ' it : he collects, apparently by lot, six-hundred and fifty- APRONS. 37 ' eight miscellaneous individuals, and says to them, Make ' this natiofi toil for us, bleed for us, hunger afid sorrow ' and sin for us; and the} do it.' CHAPTER VI. APRONS. One of the most unsatisfactory Sections in the whole Volume is that on Aprons. What though stout old Gao, 5 the Persian Blacksmith, 'whose apron, now indeed hidden ' under jewels, because raised in revolt which proved suc- 'cessful, is still the royal standard of that country'; what though John Knox's Daughter, ' who threatened Sovereign ' Majesty that she would catch her husband's head in her 10 'Apron, rather than he should lie and be a bishop'; what though the Landgravine Elizabeth, with many other Apron worthies, — figure here ? An idle wire-drawing spirit, sometimes even a tone of levity, approaching to conventional satire, is too clearly discernible. What, 15 for example, are we to make of such sentences as the following ? ' Aprons are Defences ; against injury to cleanliness, ' to safety, to modesty, sometimes to roguery. From the ' thin slip of notched silk (as it were, the Emblem and 20 ' beatified Ghost of an Apron), which some highest-bred * housewife, sitting at Niirnberg Workboxes and Toyboxes, ' has gracefully fastened on ; to the thick-tanned hide, ' girt round him with thongs, wherein the Builder builds, ' and at evening sticks his trowel ; or to those jingling 25 ' sheet-iron Aprons, wherein your otherwise half-naked * Vulcans hammer and smelt in their smelt-furnace, — is 38 SARTOR RESARTUS. ' there not range enough in the fashion and uses of this ' Vestment ? How much has been concealed, how much ' has been defended in Aprons ! Nay, rightly considered, ' what is your whole Military and Police Establishment, 5 ' charged at uncalculated millions, but a huge scarlet- ' coloured, iron-fastened Apron, wherein Society works ' (uneasily enough); guarding itself from some soil and ' stithy-sparks, in this Devil's-smithy {TeufelsscJuniede) of a * world ? But of all Aprons the most puzzling to me lo 'hitherto has been the Episcopal or Cassock. Wherein ' consists the usefulness of this Apron ? The Overseer ' {^Eptscopus) of Souls, I notice, has tucked-in the corner ' of it, as if his day's work was done : what does he ' shadow forth thereby ? ' tS:c., &:c. 15 Or again, has it often been the lot of our readers to read such stud as we shall now quote? ' I consider those printed Paper Aprons, worn by the Parisian Cooks, as a new vent, though a slight one, for Typography ; therefore as an encouragement to modern Literature, and deserving of approval : nor is it without satisfaction that I hear of a celebrated London Firm having in view to introduce the same fashion, with important extensions, in England.' — We who are on the spot hear of no such thing ; and indeed have reason to 25 be thankful that hitherto there are other vents for our Literature, exuberant as it is. — Teufelsdrockh continues : If such supply of printed Paper should rise so far as to choke-up the highways and public thoroughfares, new means must of necessity be had recourse to. In a world existing by Industry, we grudge to employ fire as a de- stroying element, and not as a creating one. However, Heaven is omnipotent, and will find us an outlet. In the meanwhile, is it not beautiful to see five-million quintals of Rags picked annually from the Laystall ; and 20 30 APRONS. ' annually, after being macerated, hot-pressed, printed-on, 'and sold, — returned thither; filling so many hungry 'mouths by the way? Thus is the Laystall, especially with 'its Rags or Clothes-rubbish, the grand Electric Battery, 'and Fountain-of-motion, from which and to which the 5 ' Social Activities (like vitreous and resinous Electricities) 'circulate, in larger or smaller circles, through the mighty, 'billowy, stormtost Chaos of Life, which they keep alive !' — Such passages fill us, who love the man, and partly esteem him, with a very mixed feeling. 10 Farther down we meet with this : ' The Journalists are now the true Kings and Clergy : henceforth historians, unless they are fools, must write not of BourboK Dynas- ties, and Tudors and Hapsburgs ; but of Stamped Kroad- sheet Dynasties, and quite new successive Names,^c- 15 cording as this or the other Able Editor, or Combinatioii .^ of Able Editors, gains the world's ear. Of the British Newspaper Press, perhaps the most important of all, and wonderful enough in its secret constitution and procedure, a valuable descriptive History already exists, 20- in that language, under the title of Satan's Invisible World Displayed; which, however, by search in all the Weissnichtwo Libraries, I have not yet succeeded in procuring {vermochte nicht aufzutreibefi).^ Thus does the good Homer not only nod, but snore. 25 Thus does Teufelsdrockh, wandering in regions where he had little business, confound the old authentic Presby- terian Witchfinder, with a new, spurious, imaginary Historian of the BrittiscJie Jom-nalistik ; and so stumble on perhaps the most egregious blunder in modern 3° Literature ! ^^ SARTOR RESARTUS. CHAPTER VII. MISCELLANEOUS-HISTORICAL. Hai'IMER is our Professor, and more purely scientific and historic, when he reaches the Middle Ages in Europe, and down to the end of the Seventeenth Century ; the true era of extravagance in costume. It is here that 5 the Antiquary and Student of Modes comes upon his richest harvest. Fantastic garbs, beggaring all fancy of a Teniers or a Callot, succeed each other, like monster devouring monster in a Dream. The whole too in brief authentic strokes, and touched not seldom with that 10 breath of genius which makes even old raiment live. Indeed, so learned, precise, graphical, and everyway interesting have we found these Chapters, that it may be thrown-out as a pertinent question for parties concerned, Whether or not a good English Translation thereof might '5 henceforth be profitably incorporated with Mr. Merrick's valuable Work On A7icic?it Armour 1 Take, by way of example, the following sketch ; as authority for which Paulinus's Zeitkiirze?ide Lust (ii. 678) is, with seeming confidence, referred to : 20 ' Did we behold the German fashionable dress of the 'Fifteenth Century, we might smile; as perhaps those 'bygone Germans, were they to rise again, and see our 'haberdashery, would cross themselves, and invoke the 'Virgin. Put happily no bygone German, or man, rises 25 'again; thus the Present is not needlessly trammelled 'with the Past; and only grows out of it, like a Tree, 'whose roots are not intertangled with its branches, but ' lie peaceably under-ground. Nay, it is very mournful, 'yet not useless, to see and know, how the Greatest and 30 ' Dearest, in a short while, would find his place quite MISCELLANE US-HI S TO RICA L. 41 ' filled-up here, and no room for him ; the very Napoleon, * the very Byron, in some seven years, has become obsol- 'ete, and were now a foreigner to his Europe. Thus is ' the Law of Progress secured ; and in Clothes, as in all 'other external things whatsoever, no fashion will 5 ' continue. ' Of the military classes in those old times, whose buff- ' belts, complicated chains and gorgets, huge churn-boots, ' ' and other riding and fighting gear have been bepainted 'in modern Romance, till the whole has acquired some- 10 ' what of a sign-post character, — I shall here say nothing : 'the civil and pacific classes, less touched upon, are 'wonderful enough for us. 'Rich men, I find, have Teusifike'' (a perhaps untrans- lateable article); 'also a silver girdle, whereat hang little 15 bells ; so that when a man walks it is with continual jingling. Some few, of musical turn, have a whole chime of bells (^Glockenspiel^ fastened there ; which, especially in sudden whirls, and the other accidents of walking, has a grateful effect. Observe too how fond 20 they are of peaks, and Gothic-arch intersections. The male world wears peaked caps, an ell long, which hang bobbing over the side (schief) : their shoes are peaked in front, also to the length of an ell, and laced on the side with tags ; even the wooden shoes have their ell- 25 long noses : some also clap bells on the peak. Further, according to my authority, the men have breeches with- out seat (ohie Gesdss) : these they fasten peakwise to their shirts ; and the long round doublet must overlap them. 30 ' Rich maidens, again, flit abroad in gowns scolloped out behind and before, so that back and breast are almost bare. Wives of quality, on the other hand, have train-gowns four or five ells in length ; which trains 42 SARTOM RLyj^TUS. 5 lO •5 aV tliere arc boys to carry. BraVe Cleopatras, sailing in tlicir silk-cloth Galley, with a^ Cupid for steersman! Consider their welts, a handbreadth thick, which waver round them by way of hem ; the long flood of silver buttons, or rather silver shells, from throat to shoe, wherewith these same welt-gowns are buttoned. The maidens have bound silver snoods about their hair, with gold spangles, and pendent flames {F/animen), that is, sparkling hair-drops : but of their mother's headgear who shall speak ? Neither in love of grace is comfort forirotten. In winter weather you behold the whole fair creation (that can afford it) in long mantles, with skirts wide below, and, for hem, not one but two sufficient handbroad welts ; all ending atop in a thick well- starched Ruff, some twenty inches broad : these are their Ruff- mantles ( Kragen ?fia?i td) . ' As yet among the womankind hoop-petticoats are not ; but the men have doublets of fustian, under which lie multiple ruffs of cloth, pasted together with batter (viit 'Jag zusarnnicfigeklcistert)^ which create protuberance enough. Thus do the two sexes vie with each other in the art of Decoration ; and as usual the stronger carries it.' Our Professor, whether he have humour himself or not, 25 manifests a certain feeling of the Ludicrous, a sly observ- ance of it, which, could emotion of any kind be confidently predicted of so still a man, we might call a real love. None of those bell-girdles, bushel-breeches, cornuted shoes or other the like phenomena, of which the History 30 of Dress offers so many, escape him : more especially the mischances, or striking adventures, incident to the wearers of such, are noticed with due fidelity. Sir Walter Raleigh's fine mantle, which he spread in the mud under Queen Klizaheth's feet, appears to provoke little enthusi- MISCELLANEOUS-HISTORICAL. 43 asm in him : he merely asks, Whether at that period the Maiden Queen ' was red-painted on the nose, and white- ' painted on the cheeks, as her tirewomen, when from ' spleen and wrinkles she would no longer look in any ' glass, were wont to serve her ? ' We can answer that 5 Sir Walter knew well what he was doing, and had the Maiden Queen been stuffed parchment dyed in verdigris, would have done the same. Thus too, treating of those enormous habiliments, that were not only slashed and galooned, but artificially swol- 10 len-out on ttte broader parts of the body, by introduction of Bran, — our Professor fails not to comment on that luckless Courtier, who having seated himself on a chair ■„ with some projecting nail on it, and therefrom rising, to pay his dei'oi?' on the entrance of Majesty, instantaneously 15 emitted several pecks of dry wheat-dust : and stood there diminished to a spindle, his galoons and slashes dangling sorrowful and flabby round him. Whereupon the Pro- fessor publishes this reflection : ' By what strange chances do we live in History ! Eros- 20 *■ tratus by a torch ; Milo by a bullock ; Henry Darnley, an unfledged booby and bustard, by his limbs ; most Kings and Queens by being born under such and such a bedtester ; Boileau Despreaux (according to Helvetius) by the peck of a turkey ; and this ill-starred individual 25 by a rent in his breeches, — for no Memoirist of Kaiser Otto's Court omits him. Vain was the prayer of The- mistocles for a talent of Forgetting : my Friends, yield cheerfully to Destiny, and read since it is written.' — Has Teufelsdrockh to be put in mind that, nearly related 30 to the impossible talent of Forgetting, stands that talent of Silence, which even travelling Englishmen manifest? ' The simplest costume,' observes our Professor, ' which ' I anywhere find alluded to in History, is that used as .. SARTOR RESARTUS. 44 'regimental, by Bolivar's Cavalry, in the late Columbian ' wars. A square Blanket, twelve feet in diagonal, is pro- ' vided (some were wont to cut-off the corners, and make ' it circular) : in the centre a slit is effected eighteen 5 ' inches long ; through this the mother-naked Trooper in- • troduces his head and neck ; and so rides shielded from • all weather, and in battle from many strokes (for he ' rolls it about his left arm) ; and not only dressed, but 'harnessed and draperied.' lo With which picture of a State of Nature, affecting by its singularity, and Old-Roman contempt of the super- fluous, we shall quit this part of our subject. CHAPTER VIII. THE WORLD OUT OF CLOTHES. If in the Descriptive-Historical Portion of this Volume, Teufelsdrockh, discussing merely the Werden (Origin and 15 successive Improvement) of Clothes, has astonished many a reader, much more will he in the Speculative-Philosoph- ical Portion, which treats of their lVirke?t, or Influences. It is here that the present Editor first feels the pressure of his task ; for here properly the higher and new Phi- 20 losophy of Clothes commences : an untried, almost in- conceivable region, or chaos ; in venturing upon which, how difficult, yet how unspeakably important is it to know what course, of survey and conquest, is the true one ; where the footing is firm substance and will bear us, where 25 it is hollow, or mere cloud, and may engulf us 1 Teufels- drockh undertakes no less than to expound the moral, political, even religious Influences of Clothes : he under- THE WORLD OUT OF CLOTHES. 4^ takes to make manifest, in its thousandfold bearings, this grand Proposition, t hat Man' s _earthly interesls^'-are, all hooked and buttoned together, and held up, by Clothes.' He says in so many words, ' Society is founded upon ' Cloth ' ; and again, ' Society sails through the Infinitude 5 'on Cloth, as on a Faust's Mantle, or rather like the ' Sheet of clean and unclean beasts in the Apostle's ' Dream ; and without such Sheet or Mantle, would sink ' to endless depths, or mount to inane limboes, and in ' either case be no more.' • 10 By what chains, or indeed infinitely complected tissues, of Meditation this grand Theorem is here unfolded, and innumerable practical Corollaries are drawn therefrom, it were perhaps a mad ambition to attempt exhibiting. Ouj: 1 Professor's method is not, in any case, that of common school Logic, where the truths all stand in a row, each holding by the skirts of the other ; but at best that of practical Reason, proceeding by large Intuition over whole systematic groups and kingdoms ; whereby, we might say, a noble complexity, almost like that of Nature, 20 reigns in his Philosophy, or spiritual Picture of Nature : a mighty maze, yet, as faith whispers, not without a plan. Nay we complained above, that a certain ignoble com- plexity, what we must call mere confusion, was also discernible. Often, also, we have to exclaim ; Would to 25 Heaven those same Biographical Documents were come ! For it seems as if the demonstration lay much in the Author's individuality ; as if it were not Argument that had taught him, but Experience, At present it is only in local glimpses, and by significant fragments, picked often 30 at wide-enough intervals from the original Volume, and carefully collated, that we can hope to impart some out- line or foreshadow of this Doctrine. Readers of any intelligence are once more invited to favour us with their 46 SARTOR RESARTUS. lO '5 20 30 most concentrated attention : let these, after intense con- sideration, and not till then, pronounce, Whether on the utmost verge of our actual horizon there is not a looming as of Land ; a promise of new Fortunate Islands, perhaps whole undiscovered Americas, for such as have canvas to sail thither? — As exordium to the whole, stand here the following long citation : ' With men of a speculative turn,' writes Teufelsdrockh, there come seasons, meditative, sweet, yet awful hours, when in wonder and fear you ask yourself that unan- swerable question : Who am /; the thing that can say " I " {lias Wcscn das sich Ich ?ie?int) ? The world, with its loud trafficking, retires into the distance ; and through the paper-hangings, and stone-walls, and thick-plied tissues of Commerce and Polity, and all the living and lifeless integuments (of Society and a Body), wherewith your Existence sits surrounded, — the sight reaches forth into the void Deep, and you are alone with the Universe, and silently commune with it as ojie myste- rious Presence with another. ^ *Vi ^7„ /,^^^ * ' Who am I ; what is this Me ? A Voice, a Motion, an Appearance; — some embodied, visualised Idea in the Eternal Mind? Cogito, ergo sum. Alas, poor Cogitator, this takes us but a little way. Sure enough, I am ; and lately was not : but Whence ? How ? Whereto ? The answer lies around, written in all colours and motions, uttered in all tones of jubilee and wail, in thousand- figured, thousand-voiced, harmonious Nature : but where is the cunning eye and ear to whom that God-written Apocalypse will yield articulate meaning ? We sit as in a boundless Phantasmagoria and Dream-grotto ; bound- less, for the faintest star, the remotest century, lies not even nearer the verge thereof : sounds and many- coloured visions Hit round our sense ; but Him, the THE WORLD OUT OF CLOTHES. 47 Unslumbering, whose work both Dream and Dreamer are, we see not ; except in rare half-waking moments, suspect not. f Creation, says one,"]lies before us, like a glorious\^ Rainbow ; but the Sun that made it lies behind us,^/ hidden from us. Then, in that strange Dream, how We 5 clutch at shadows as if they were substances ; and sleep deepest while fancying ourselves most awake ! Which of your Philosophical Systems is other than a dream- theorem ; [a net quotient,! confidently given out, where divisor and dividend are both unknown ? What are all 10 your national Wars, with their Moscow Retreats, and sanguinary hate-filled Revolutions, but the Somnam- bulism of uneasy Sleepers ? This Dreaming, this Somnambulism is what we on Earth call/Life ; wherein the most indeed undoubtingly wander, as if they knew 15 right hand from left ; yet they only are wise who know that they know nothing. ' Pity that all Metaphysics had hitherto proved so inexpressibly unproductive ! The secret of Man 's Bein g _y is still like the Sphinx's secret : a riddle that he ca njaiit ip rede ; and for ignorance of which he suffers death, the | worst death, a spiritual. What are your Axioms, and 1 Categories, and Systems, and Aphorisms ? Words, words. High Air-castles are cunningly built of Words, the Words well bedded also in good Logic-mortar ; 25 wherein, however, no Knowledge will come to lodge. The whole is greater than the part : how exceedingly true ! Nature abhors a vacuum : how exceedingly false and calumnious ! Again, Nothing can act but where it is : with all my heart ; only where is it ? Be not the slave 30 of Words : is not the Distant, the Dead, while I love it, and long for it, and mourn for it, Here, in the genuine sense, as truly as the floor I stand on ? But that same Where, with its brother, When, are from the first the 48 SARTOR RESARTUS. U lO master-colours of our Dream-grotto ; say, rather, the Canvas (the warp and woof thereof) whereon all our Dreams and Life-visions are painted. Nevertheless, has not a deeper meditation taught certain of every climate and age, that the Where and When, so myste- riously inseparable from all our thoughts, are but super- ficial terrestrial adhesions to thought ; that the Seer may discern them where they mount up out of the celestial Everywhere and Forever : have not all nations conceived their God as Omnipresent and Eternal ; as existing in a universal Here, an everlast- ing Now ? Think well, thou too w ilt find that Space is buj^^ mode^ of our human Sensey so lik ewise Tirn e.i. there /J no_Spa.ce_and_i]iijrinfp • W^f are — w e. Jcaow not what ; alight-sparkles floating- m- t he ae t her of '.rpty! * Sojhat this so solid-seeming World, after all, wer^ but ' an ai r-image, our Me tJie only reality : and Nature, with ' its thousandfold production and destruction, but the ::o 'reflex of our own inward Force, the "phantasy of our 'Dream"; or what the Earth-Spirit in Faust names it, ' the ^h'ing risible Garment of God. ' " In Being's floods, in Action's storm, I walk and work, above, beneath. Work and weave in endless motion ! Birth and Death, An infinite ocean ; A seizing and giving The fire of Living : 'Tis thus at the roaring Loom of Time I ply, And weave for God the Garment thou seest Him by." ' Of twenty millions that have read and spouted this ' thunder-speech of the Erdgeist, are there yet twenty ' units of us that have learned the meaning thereof ? THE WORLD OUT OF CLOTHES. 49 ' It was in some such mood, when wearied and fordone with these high speculations, that I first came upon the question of Clothes. Strange enough, it strikes me, is this same fact of there being Tailors and Tailored. The Horse I ride has his own whole fell : strip him of the 5 girths and flaps and extraneous tags I have fastened round him, and the noble creature is his own sempster and weaver and spinner ; nay his own bootmaker, jeweller, and man-milliner ; he bounds free through the valleys, with a perennial rainproof court-suit on his 10 body ; wherein warmth and easiness of fit have reached perfection ; nay, the graces also have been considered, and frills and fringes, with gay variety of colour, featly appended, and ever in the right place, are not wanting. While I — good Heaven ! — have thatched myself over 15 with the dead fleeces of sheep, the bark of vegetables,* the entrails of worms, the hides of oxen or seals, the ' felt of furred beasts ; and walk abroad a moving Rag- screen, overheaped with shreds and tatters raked from the Charnel-house jof Nature, where they would have 20 rotted, to rot on me more slowly ! Day after day, I must thatch myself anew ; day after day, this despicable thatch must lose some film of its thickness ; some film of it, frayed away by tear and wear, must be brushed- off into the Ashpit, into the Laystall ; till by degrees 25 the whole has been brushed thither, and I, the dust- making, patent Rag-grinder, get new material to grind down. O subter-brutish ! vile ! most vile ! For have not I too a compact all-enclosing Skin, whiter or dingier ? Am I a botched mass of tailors' and cobblers' shreds, 30 then ; or a tightly-articulated, homogeneous little Figure, automatic, nay alive ? ' Strange enough how creatures of the human-kind shut their eyes to plainest facts ; and by the mere inertia of • ^o SARTOR RESARTUS. Oblivion and Stupidity, live at ease in the midst of Wonders and Terrors. But indeed man is, and was always, a blockhead and duITard ; much readier to feel and digest, than to think and consider. Prejudice, which he pretends to hate, is his absolute lawgiver ; mere use-and-wont everywhere leads him by the nose : thus let but a Rising of the Sun, let but a Creation of the World happen twice, and it ceases to be marvellous, to be noteworthy, or noticeable. Perhaps not once in a lifetime does it occur to your ordinary biped, of any country or generation, be he gold-mantled Prince or russet-jerkined Peasant, that his Vestments and his Self are not one and indivisible ; that he is naked, with- out vestments, till he buy or steal such, and by fore- thought sew and button them. ' B'or my own part, these considerations, of our Clothes- thatch, and how, reaching inwards even to our heart of hearts, it tailorises and demoralises us, fill me with a certain horror at myself, and mankind ; almost as one feels at those Dutch Cows, which, during the wet season, yoii see grazing deliberately with jackets and petticoats (of striped sacking), in the meadows of Gouda. Never- theless there is something great in the moment when a man first strips himself of adventitious wrappages ; and sees indeed that he is naked, and, as Swift has it, " a forked straddling animal with bandy legs"; yet also a Spirit, and unutterable Mystery of Mysteries.' AD A AUTISM. ^t CHAPTER IX. ADAMITISM. Let no courteous reader take offence at the opinions broached in the conclusion of the last Chapter. The Editor himself, on first glancing over that singular passage, was inclined to exclaim : What, have we got not only a Sansculottist, but an enemy to Clothes in 5 the abstract? A new Adamite, in this century, which flatters itself that it is the Nineteenth, and destructive both to Superstition and Enthusiasm? Consider, thou foolish Teufelsdrockh, what benefits unspeakable all ages and sexes derive from Clothes. lo For example, when thou thyself, a watery, pulpy, slob- bery freshman and new-comer in this Planet, sattest muling and puking in thy nurse's arms ; sucking thy coral and looking forth into the world in the blankest manner, what hadst thou been, without thy blankets, and 15 bibs, and other nameless hulls ? A terror to thyself and mankind ! Or hast thou forgotten the day when thou first receivedst breeches, and thy long clothes became short? The village where thou livedst was all apprized of the fact ; and neighbour after neighbour kissed thy 20 pudding-cheek, and gave thee, as handsel, silver or cop- per coins, on that the first gala-day of thy existence. Again, wert not thou, at one period of life, a Buck, or Blood, or Macaroni, or Incroyable, or Dandy, or by whatever name, according to year and place, such phe- 25 nomenon is distinguished ? In that one word lie included mysterious volumes. Nay, now when the reign of folly is over, or altered, and thy clothes are not for triumph but for defence, hast thou always worn them perforce, and as a consequence of Man's Fall ; n.ever rejoiced in 3° -2 SARTOK KESARTCS. them as in a warm movable House, a Body round thy Body, wherein that strange Thee of thine sat snug, de- fying all variations of Climate? Girt with thick double- milled kerseys ; half-buried under shawls and broad- 5 brims, and overalls and mudboots, thy very fingers cased in doeskin and mittens, thou hast bestrode that 'Horse I ride'; and, though it were in wild winter, dashed through the world, glorying in it as if thou wert its lord. In vain did the sleet beat round thy temples; it lighted lo only on thy impenetrable, felted or woven, case of wool. In vain did the winds howl, — forests sounding and creaking, deep calling unto deep, — and the storms heap themselves together into one huge Arctic whirlpool ; thou flewest through the middle thereof, striking fire 15 from the highway; wild music hummed in thy ears, thou too wert as a 'sailor of the air' ; the wreck of matter and the crash of worlds was thy element and propitiously wafting tide. Without Clothes, without bit or saddle, what hadst thou been ; what had thy fleet quadruped 20 been? — Nature is good, but she is not the best; here truly was the victory of Art over Nature. A thunder- bolt indeed might have pierced thee ; all short of this thou couldst defy. Or, cries the courteous reader, has your Teufelsdrockh 25 forgotten what he said lately about 'Aboriginal Savages,' and their 'condition miserable indeed ' ? Would he have all this unsaid ; and us betake ourselves again to the 'matted cloak,' and go sheeted in a 'thick natural fell'? Nowise, courteous reader ! The Professor knows full 30 well what he is saying ; and both thou and we, in our haste, do him wrong. If Clothes, in these times, 'so tailorise and demoralise us,' have they no redeeming value ; can they not be altered to serve better ; must they of necessity be thrown to the dogs ? The truth is, ADAMITISM. 53 Teufelsdrockh, though a Sansculottist, is no Adajoi tc ; '" and much perhaps as he might wish to go forth before this degenerate age, 'as a Sign,' would nowise wish to do it, as those old Adamites did, in a state of Nakedness. The utility of Clothes is altogether apparent to him : nay 5 perhaps he has an insight into their more recondite, and almost mystic qualities, what we might call the omnipo- tent virtue of Clothes, such as was never before vouch- safed to any man. For example : 'You see two individuals,' he writes, 'one dressed in 10 ' fine Red, the other in coarse threadbare Blue : Red says 'to Blue, '"Be hanged and anatomised;" Blue hears with ' a shudder, and (O wonder of wonders !) marches sorrow- ' fully to the gallows ; is there noosed up, vibrates his 'hour, and the surgeons dissect him, and fit his bones 15 'into a skeleton for medical purposes. How is this; or 1 ' what make ye of your Nothing can act hut where it is ? | 'Red has no physical hold of Blue, no clutch of him, is / ' nowise in contact with him : neither are those minister- 'ing Sheriffs and Lord-Lieutenants and Hangmen and 20 ' Tipstaves so related to commanding Red, that he can ' tug them hither and thither ; but each stands distinct 'within his own skin. Nevertheless, as it is spoken, so ' it is done : the articulated Word sets all hands in ' Action ; and Rope and Improved-drop perform their 25 ' work. ' Thinkins: reader, the reason seems to me twofold : , ' First, that Ma?i is a Spirit, and bound by invisible bonds \ 'to All Men; secolidly, that he wears Clothes, which are ' the visible emblems of that fact. Has not your Red 30 ' hanging-individual a horsehair wig, squirrel-skins, and 'a plush-gown; whereby all mortals know that he is a 'Judge? — Society, which the more I think of it as- ' tonishes me the more, is founded upon Cloth. ., SARTOR RESARTUS. ' Often in my atrabiliar, moods, when I read of pom- pous ceremonials, Frankfort Coronations, Royal Draw- in<^-ruoms, Levees, Couchees ; and how the ushers and macers and pursuivants are all in waiting ; how Duke 5 this is presented by Archduke that, and Colonel A by General 11, and innumerable Bishops, Admirals, and miscellaneous Functionaries, are advancing gallantly to the Anointed Presence ; and I strive, in my remote privacv, to form a clear picture of that solemnity, — on lo a sudden, as by some enchanter's wand, the — shall I speak it? — the Clothes fly-off the whole dramatic corps ; and Dukes, Grandees, Bishops, Generals, Anointed Presence itself, every mother's son of them, stand straddling there, not a shirt on them ; and I know 15 'not whether to laugh or weep. This physical or psy- chical infirmity, in which perhaps I am not singular, I have, after hesitation, thought right to publish, for the solace of those afflicted with the like.' Would to Heaven, say we, thou hadst thought right to o keep it secret ! Who is there now that can read the five columns of Presentations in his Morning Newspaper without a shudder? Hypochondriac men, and all men are to a certain extent hypochondriac, should be more gently treated. With what readiness our fancy, in this 5 shattered state of the nerves, follows out the conse- quences which Teufelsdrockh, with a devilish coolness, goes on to draw : 'What would Majesty do, could such an accident befall in reality; should the buttons all simultaneously start, and the solid wool evaporate, in very Deed, as here in Dream? Ach Gott! How each skulks into the nearest hiding-place ; their high State Tragedy {Haupt- u?id Staats-Actiofi) becomes a Pickleherring-Farce to weep at, which is the worst kind of Farce ; the tables (accord- ADAMITISM. 52 *ing to Horace), and with them, the whole fabric of 'Government, Legislation, Property, Police, and Civilised ' Society, are dissolved^ in wails and howls.' Lives the man that can figure a naked Duke of Windle- ,' . straw addressing a naked House of Lords? Imagination, 5 choked as in mephitic air, recoils on itself, and will not forward with the picture. The Woolsack, the Ministerial, the Opposition Benches — infandum ! i7ifa7idiim I And yet why is the thing impossible? Was not every soul, or rather every body, of these Guardians of our Liberties, 10 naked, or nearly so, last night; 'a forked Radish with a head fantastically carved'? And why might he not, did our stern Fate so order it, walk out to St. Stephen's, as well as into bed, in that no-fashion ; and there, with other similar Radishes, hold a Bed of Justice? 'Solace 15 of those afflicted with the like ! ' Unhappy Teufels- drockh, had man ever such a ' physical or psychical in- firmity ' before ? And now how many, perhaps, may thy unparalleled confession (which we, even to the sounder British world, and goaded-on by Critical and Biographi- 20 cal duty, grudge to re-impart) incurably infect therewith ! Art thou the malignest of Sansculottists, or only the maddest ? ' It will remain to be examined,' adds the inexorable Teufelsdrockh, ' in how far the Scarecrow, as a Clothed 25 Person, is not also entitled to benefit of clergy, and English trial by jury: nay perhaps, considering his high function (for is not he too a Defender of Property, and Sovereign armed with the terrors of the Law ?), to a cer- tain royal Immunity and Inviolability ; which, however, 30 misers and the meaner class of persons are not always voluntarily disposed to grant him.' * * * =* ' O my friends, we are (in Yorick Sterne's words) but as " turkeys driven, with a stick and red 56 SARTOR RESARTUS. 'clout, to the market"; or if some drivers, as they do in ' Norfolk, take a dried bladder and put peas in it, the ' rattle thereof terrifies the boldest ! ' C H A P 1' E R X. PURE REASON'. It must now be apparent enough that our Professor, as 5 above hinted, is a speculative Radical, and of the very darkest tinge ; acknowledgin g, for most p aj-t, i n the so ; 1 emnities__anii_pa raph e r n a 1 i a of ci y i 1 i s e^d_JJf£, w^h ich we make so much of, no_thing^but so_many Cloth-rags, turkey-poleSj^ and/ bladders with dned-peas.' To linger lo among such speculations, longer than mere Science re- quires, a discerning public can have no wish. For our purposes the simple fact that such a Naked World is pos- sible, nay actually exists (under the Clothed one), will be sufticient. Much, therefore, we omit about ' Kings 15 wrestling naked on the green with Carmen,' and the I Kings being thrown: 'dissect them with scalpels,' says 'I'eufelsdrockh ; ' the same viscera, tissues, livers, lights, and other life-tackle are there: examine their spiritual mechanism ; the same great Need, great Greed, and 20 little Faculty; nay ten to one but the Carman, who un- derstands draught-cattle, the rimming of wheels, some- thing of the laws of unstable and stable equilibrium, with other branches of wagon-science, and has actually put forth his hand and operated on Nature, is the more 25 ' cunningly gifted of the two. Whence, then, their so un- speakable difference ? From Clothes.' Much also we shall omit about confusion of Ranks, and Joan and My PURE REASON. ck Lady, and how it would be everywhere ' Hail fellow well met,' and Chaos were come again : all which to any one that has once fairly pictured-out the grand mother-idea, Society in a state of Nakedness, will spontaneously suggest itself. Should some sceptical individual still entertain 5 doubts whether in a world without Clothes, the smallest Politeness, Polity, or even Police, could exist, let him turn to the original Volume, and view there the bound- less Serboiiian Bog of Sansculottism, stretching sour and pestilential: over which we have lightly flown ; where not 10 only whole armies but whole nations might sink ! If indeed the following argument, in its brief riveting emphasis, be not of itself incontrovertible and final : ' Are we Opossums ; have we natural Pouches, like the ' Kangaroo? Or how, without Clothes, could we possess 15 ' the master-organ, soul's seat, and true pineal gland of ' the Body Social : I mean, a Purse ? ' Nevertheless it is impossible to hate Professor Teufels- drockh ; at worst, one knows not whether to hate or to love him. For though, in looking at the fair tapestry of 20 human Life, with its royal and even sacred figures, he dwells not on the obverse alone, but here chiefly on the reverse ; and indeed turns out the rough seams, tatters, and manifold thrums of that unsightly wrong-side, with an almost diabolic patience and indifference, which must 25 have sunk him in the estimation of most readers, — there is that within which unspeakably distinguishes him from all other past and present Sansculottists. The grand unparalleled peculiarity of Te ufelsdr o c kh'Ts^ that with all this Descendentalism, he combines a Transcendentalism, 30 no less superlative ; whereby if on the one hand he de- grade man below most animals, except those jacketed Gouda Cows, he, on the other, exalts him beyond the visible Heavens, almost to an equality with the Gods. j^ SARTOR RESARTUS. 'To the eye of vulgar Logic,' says he, 'what is man? An omnivorous Biped that wears Breeches. To the eye of Pure Reason, what is he ? A Soul, a Spirit, and divine Apparition. Round his mysterious Me, there lies, under all those wool-rags, a Garment of Flesh (or of Senses), contextured in the Loom of Heaven ; where- by he is revealed to his like, and dwells with them in Union and Division; and sees and fashions for him- self a Universe, with azure Starry Spaces, and long 10 Thousands of Years. Deep-hidden is he under that strange Garment ; amid Sounds and Colours and Forms, as it were, swathed-in, and inextricably over-shrouded: yet it is sky woven, and worthy of a God. Stands he not thereby in the centre of Immensities, in the conflux IS 'of Eternities t He feels ; power has been given him to know, to believe ; nay does not the spirit of Love, free in its celestial primeval brightness, even here, though but for moments look through ? Well said Saint Chrys- ostom, with his lips of gold, " the true Shekinah is 20 Man": where else is the God's- Presence manifested not to our eyes only, but to our hearts, as in our fellow man ? ' In such passages, unhappily too rare, the high Platonic Mysticism of our Author, which is perhaps the funda- 25 mental element of his nature, bursts forth, as it were, in full flood ; and, through all the vapour and tarnish of what is often so perverse, so mean Jn his exterior and environment, we seem to look into a %hole inward Sea of Light and Love ; — though, alas, tll^^^rim coppery 30 clouds soon roll together again, and hide it from view. Such tendency to Mysticism is everywhere traceable in this man ; and indeed, to attentive readers, must have been long ago apparent. Nothing that he sees but has more than a common meaning, but has two meanings: PURE REASON. ' ^^ thus, if in the highest Imperial Sceptre and Charlemagne- Mantle, as well as in the poorest Ox-goad and Gipsy- Blanket, he finds Prose, Decay, Contemptibility ; there is in each sort Poetry also, and a reverend Worth. For Matter, were it never so despicable, is Spirit, the mani- 5 testation of Spirit: were it never so honourable, can it be more ? The thing Visible, nay the thing Imagined, the thing in any way conceived as Visible, what is it but a Garment, a Clothing of the higher, celestial Invisible, ' unimaginable, formless, dark with excess of bright ? ' 10 Under which point of view the following passage, so strange in purport, so strange in phrase, seems character- istic enough: ' The beginning of all Wisdom is to look fixedly on Clothes, or even with armed eyesight, till they become 15 transparent. " The Philosopher," says the wisest of this age, "must station himself in the middle": how true! The Philosopher is he to whom the Highest has ' descended, and the Lowest has mounted up; who is the equal and kindly brother of all. 20 ' Shall we tremble before clothwebs and cobwebs, ' whether woven in Arkwright looms, or by the silent 'iAiachnes that weave unrestingly in our Imagination 1 \Qx^ on the other hand, what is there that we cannot ' love ; since all was created by God t 25 ' Happy he who can look through the Clothes of a :' Man (the woollen, and fleshly, and official Bank-paper, /and State-paper Clothes), into the Man himself; and I discern, it may be, in this or the other Dread Potentate, ' a more or less incompetent Digestive-apparatus ; yet 30 ' also an inscrutable venerable Mystery, in the meanest ' Tinker that sees with eyes ! ' For the rest, as is natural to a man of this kind, he deals much in the feeling of Wonder ; insists on the 6o SARTOR RESARTUS. 10 30 necessity and hi. *• * ,>Ol^'Tt n \ r 7' V X - of viiexr^ ut is perhaps ques- jLnd gent^alog}.*. how closely is tx> be griined. Ne\"er- the p^--"--g remains <•■ .^ard to any J proftt or not. ces of his tirst appearance in this ami what manner of Fmbiic Entry he made, are ~ - - iered m.inifest. To the - -■>•" -- ;-. be this First . ,._-,-:, he seems to : ; uncertain, we might er of any: so that this Genesis of his ci , but an Exodus {or transit out of whereof the preliminary por- , ^ ^- -iL' thus writes he, Ln the Bag on iranous Papers* which we arrange with dito- is Futteral and his wife ; childless. : cheerful though now verging • 'lad been c" ^^-:f.iiit. ■ ~ ■ - - w ^ ^_ i.\_ iv tiJ.C - ferule for the ated a little Orchard, on u£.V£S/S. y^ the produce of which, he Cincinnatus-like, lived not without dignity. Fruits, the peach, the apple, the grape, with other varieties came in their season ; all which Andreas knew how to sell : on evenings he smoked largely, or read (^as beseemed a regimental School- 5 master), and talked to neighbours that would listen about the Victory of Rossbach; and how Fritz the Only i^t/ifr Einsige) had once with his own royal lips spoken to him, had been pleased to say, when Andreas as camp-sentinel demanded the pass-word, ^""Schwi^ig Hand 10 (Peace, hound) ! " before any of his staff-adjutants could answer. '"^Das nenn ich niir einen Konigy There is what 1 call a King," would Andreas exclaim ; " but the smoke of Kunersdorf was still smarting his eyes." ' Gretchen, the housewife, won like Desdemona by the 15 deeds rather than the looks of her now veteran Othello, lived not in altogether military subordination ; for, as Andreas said, " the womankind will not drill (jver kann die IVeiberchen dressirtrn ^)-/' nevertheless she at heart loved him both for valour and wisdom ; to her a Prus- 20 sian grenadier Sergeant and Regiment's Schoolmaster was little other than a Cicero and Cid : what you see, yet cannot see over, is as good as infinite. Nay, was not Andreas in very deed a man of order, courage, downrightness {Geradheit)\ that understood Biisching's 25 Geography, had been in the victory of Rossbach, and left for dead in the camisade of Hochkirch ? The good Gretchen, for all her fretting, watched over him and hovered around him, as only a true housemother clui: assiduously she cooked and sewed and scoured for him; jo so that not only his old regimental sword and grenadier- cap, but the whole habitation and environment, where on pegs of honour they hung, looked ever trim and gay: a roomy painted Cottage, embowered in fruit-trees and SAA'TOK J^ESARTUS. 74 • forest-trees, evergreens and honeysuckles ; rising many- • coloured from amid shaven grass-plots, flowers strug- 'j^ling-in through the very windows; under its long pro- ' jecting eaves nothing but garden-tools in methodic piles 5 • (to screen them from rain), and seats where, especially 'on summer nights, a King might have wished to sit and •smoke, and call it his. Such a Bauergut (Copyhold) • had (Jretchen given her veteran ; whose sinewy arms, 'and long-disused gardening talent, had made it what lo ' you saw. ' Into this umbrageous Man's-nest, one meek yellow ' evening or dusk, when the Sun, hidden indeed from ter- • restrial Kntepfuhl, did nevertheless journey visible and • radiant along the celestial Balance {Libra), it was that T5 * a Stranger of reverend aspect entered ; and, with grave 'salutation, stood before the two rather astonished house- ' mates. He was close-muffled in a wide mantle ; which ' without farther parley unfolding, he deposited there- 'from what seemed some Basket, overhung with green 20 ' Persian silk ; saying only : Ihr lichen Leute, hier hrifige 'fin unsifnitzbares I'crlcihcn ; nchmt es in aller Acht, sorg- ' J'dltigst hcniitzt cs : viit hohctn Lohn, odcr 7vohl jnit schwe?'e?i ' Zinsrn, wird's einst zuriickgefordcrt. "Good Christian • people, here lies for you an invaluable Loan ; take all 25 'heed thereof, in all carefulness employ it: with high ' recompense, or else with heavy penalty, will it one day 'be required back." Uttering which singular words, in 'a clear, bell-like, forever memorable tone, the Stranger • gracefully withdrew ; and before Andreas or his wife, 30 ' gazing in expectant wonder, had time to fashion either ' question or answer, was clean gone. Neither out of ' doors could aught of him be seen or heard : he had ' vanished in the thickets, in the dusk ; the Orchard-gate ' stood quietly closed : the Stranger was gone once and GENESIS. 7^ always. So sudden had the whole transaction been, in the autumn stillness and twilight, so gentle, noiseless, that the Futterals could have fancied it all a trick of Imagination, or some visit from an authentic Spirit, Only that the green-silk Basket, such as neither Imagi- 5 nation nor authentic Spirits are wont to carry, still stood visible and tangible on their little parlour-table. Towards this the astonished couple, now with lit candle, hastily turned their attention. Lifting the green veil, to see what invaluable it hid, they descried there amid 10 down and rich white wrappages, no Pitt Diamond or Hapsburg Regalia, but in the softest sleep, a little red- coloured Infant ! Beside it, lay a roll of gold Friedrichs the exact amount of which was never publicly known ; also a Taufschein (baptismal certificate), wherein unfort- 15 unately nothing but the Name was decipherable ; other documents or indication none whatever. ' To wonder and conjecture was unavailing, then and always thenceforth. Nowhere in Entepfuhl, on the morrow or next day, did tidings transpire of any such 20 figure as the Stranger ; nor could the Traveller, who had passed through the neighbouring Town in coach-and- four, be connected with this Apparition, except in the way of gratuitous surmise. Meanwhile, for Andreas and his wife, the grand practical problem was : What to 25 do with this little sleeping red-coloured Infant t Amid amazements and curiosities, which had to die away with- out external satisfying, they resolved, as in such circum- stances charitable prudent people needs must, on nurs- ing it, though with spoon-meat, into whiteness, and if 30 possible, into manhood. The Heavens smiled on their endeavour : thus has that same mysterious Individual ever since had a status for himself in this visible Uni- verse, some modicum of victual and lodging and par- •7 '«o (J SAA'TOA' KESAKTUS. ade-'^round ; and now expanded in bulk, faculty, and knowledge of good and evil, he, as Herr Diogenes TKrKKi.sDKocKH, professes or is ready to profess, per- haps not altogether without effect, in the new University of Weissnichtwo, the new Science of Things in General.' Our Philosopher declares here, as indeed we should think he well might, that these facts, first communicated, by the good Ciretchen Futteral, in his twelfth year, ' pro- ' duced on the boyish heart and fancy a quite indelible inprcssion. Who this reverend Personage," he says, that glided into the Orchard Cottage when the Sun was in Libra, and then, as on spirit's wings, glided out again, might be ? An inexpressible desire, full of love and of sadness, has often since struggled within me to shape an answer. Ever, in my distresses and my loneli- ness, has Fantasy turned, full of longing {seJmsuchtsvoU')^ to that unknown Father, who perhaps far from me, per- haps near, either way invisible, might have taken me to his paternal bosom, there to lie screened from many a woe. Thou beloved F ather, dost thou still, shut out from me only by thin penetrable curtains of earthly Space, wen d to and fro among the crowd of the living? (V art thou hidden by those~Taf thicker curta+ns of the Kvcrlasting Night, or rather of the Everlasting Day, through which my mortal eye and outstretched arms :'ced not strive to reach? Alas! I know not, and in vain vex myself to know. More than once, heart- deluded, have I taken for thee this and the other noble- looking Stranger ; and approached him wistfully, with infinite regard ; but he too had to repel me, he too was not thou. ' .And yet, () Man born of Woman,' cries the Autobiog- rapher, with one of his sudden whirls, 'wherein is my ' case peculiar? Hadst thou, any more than I. a Father GEA'ESIS. w ^ ^^j^^to«--dinn~§TTSSvest ? The Andreas and Gretchen, or ** the Adam and Eve, who led thee into Life, and for a ' time suckled and pap-fed thee there, whom thou namest ' Father and Mother ; these were, like mine, but thy ' nursing-father and nursing-mother : thy true Beginning 5 ' and Father is in Heaven, whom with the bodily eye ' thou shalt never behold, but only with the spiritual.' • ' The little green veil,' adds he, among much similar moralising, and embroiled discoursing, ' I yet keep ; still more inseparably the Name, Diogenes Teufelsdrockh. fo From tlT<^ w^j] (-cm nnfhinpr hf^ mfpyrfd ; a piece of now I J^-^*^ quite faded Persian silk, like thousands of others. On | '^^^ the name I have many times meditated and conjectured ; A-^^^^-^ but neither in this lay there any clue. That it was my unknown Father's name I must hesitate to believe. To 15 po purpose have I searched through all the Herald's Books, in and without the German Empire, and through all manner of Subscriber-Lists (^Prdniuneraiiteti)^ Militia- Rolls, and other Name-catalogues ; extraordinary names as we have in Germany, the name Teufelsdrockh, except 20 as appended to my own person, nowhere occurs. Again what may the unchristian rather than Christian " Diog- enes " mean ? Did that reverend Basket-bearer intend by such designation, to shadow forth my future destiny, or his own present malign humour? Perhaps the latter, 25 perhaps both. Thou ill-starred Parent, who like an Ostrich hadst to leave thy ill-starred offspring to be hatched into self-support by the mere sky-influences of Chance, can thy pilgrimage have been a smooth one ? Beset by Misfortune thou doubtless hast been ; or in- 30 deed by the worst figure of Misfortune, by Misconduct. Often have I fanced how, in thy hard life-battle, thou wert shot at and slung at, wounded, hand-fettered, ham- Strung, browbeaten and bedevilled, by the Time-Spirit SAKTOR RESAKTrS. ^Aatseist) in thyself and others, till the good soul first pvcn thee was seared into grim rage ; and thou hadst nothing for it but to leave in me an indignant appeal to the Future, and living speaking Protest against the Devil, as that same Spirit not of the Time only, but of Time' itself, is well named! Which Appeal and Pro- test, may I now modestly add, was not perhaps quite lost in air. ' For indeed as Walter Shandy often insisted, there is much, nay almost all, in Names. The Name is the ear- liest garment you wrap round the earth-visiting Me ; to which it thenceforth cleaves, more tenaciously (for there are Names that have lasted nigh thirty centuries) than the very skin. And now from without, what mystic in- fluences does it not send inwards, even to the centre ; especially in those plastic first-times, when the whole soul is yet infantine, soft, and the invisible seed-grain will urow to be an all overshadowing tree ! Names ? Could I unfold the influence of Names, which are the most important of all Clothings, I were a second greater Trismegistus. Not only all common Speech, but Sci- ence, Poetry itself is no other, if thou consider it, than a right Naming. Adam's first task was giving names to natural Appearances : what is ours still but a continuation of the same ; be the Appearances exotic- vegetable, organic, mechanic, stars, or starry movements (as in Science), or (as in Poetry) passions, virtues, ca- lamities, God-attributes, Gods? — In a very plain sense the Proverb says, Call^one a thief ^ and he will steal ; in an almost similar sense, may we not perhaps say. Call one Dioi^enes Teu/clsdroikh, and he will open the Philoso- phy of Clothes i' ' Meanwhile the incipient Diogenes, like others, all 'ignorant of his Why, his How or Whereabout, was open- GENESIS. jg * ing his eyes to the kind Light ; sprawling-out his ten ' fingers and toes ; listening, tasting, feeling ; in a word, ' by all his Five Senses, still more by his sixth Sense of ' Hunger, and a whole infinitude of inward, spiritual, half- ' awakened Senses, endeavouring daily to acquire for 5 ' himself some knowledge of this strange Universe where *he had arrived, be his task therein what it might. Infi- ' nite was his progress ; thus in some fifteen months, he 'could perform the miracle of — Speech! To breed a 'fresh Soul, is it not like brooding a fresh (celestial) 10 ' Egg ; wherein as yet all is formless, powerless ; yet by ' degrees organic elements and fibres shoot through the ' watery albumen ; and out of vague Sensation, grows ' Thought, grow Fantasy and Force, and we have Phil- ' osophies. Dynasties, nay Poetries and Religions! 15 ' Young Diogenes, or rather young Gneschen, for by ' such diminutive had they in their fondness named him, ' travelled forward to those high consummations, by quick ' yet easy stages. The Futterals, to avoid vain talk, and ' moreover keep the roll of gold Friedrichs safe, gave- 20 'out that he was a grand-nephew; the orphan of some ' sister's daughter, suddenly deceased, in Andreas's dis- ' tant Prussian birth-land ; of whom, as of her indigent ' sorrowing widower, little enough was known at Ente- ' pfuhl. Heedless of all which, the Nurseling took to his 25 ' spoon-meat, and throve. I have heard him noted as a ' still infant, that kept his mind much to himself ; above ' all, that seldom or never cried. He already felt that ' time was precious ; that he had other work cut-out for ' him than whimpering.' 30 Such, after utmost painful search and collation among these miscellaneous Paper-masses, is all the notice we can gather of Herr Teufelsdrockh's genealogy. More jJq SAA'TOA' RESAKTL'S. imperfect, more enigmatic it can seem to few readers than to us. The Professor, in whom truly we more and more discern a certain satirical turn, and deep under-cur- rents of roguish whim, for the present stands pledged in 5 honour, so we will not doubt him : but seems it not con- ceivable that, by the 'good Gretchen Futteral,* or some other perhaps interested party, he has himself been de- ceived } Should these sheets, translated or not, ever reach the Kntepfuhl Circulating-Library, some cultivated 10 native of that district might feel called to afford explana- tion. Nay, since Books, like invisible scouts, permeate the whole habitable globe, and Timbuct. 7"r* i'^'^flf L&.-nni- ^-if.- ffniii Hritish Literatu re, may not some Copy find out even the mysterious basket-bearing stranger, who in a 15 state of extreme senility perhaps still exists; and gently force even him to disclose himself ; to claim openly a son, in whom any father may feel pride? ^ , ^ / 'chapter IL ^ ' IDYLLIC. ' Happy season of Childhood ! ' exclaims Teufelsdrockh : ' Kind Nature, that art to all a bountiful mother; that 20 ' visitest the poor man's hut with auroral radiance ; and ' for thy Nurseling hast provided a soft swathing of Love ' and infinite Hope, wherein he waxes and slumbers, ' danced-round {um^^^aukclt) by sweetest Dreams ! If the ' paternal Cottage still shuts us in, its roof still screens -'5 ' us ; with a Father we have as yet a prophet, priest and ' king, and Obedience that makes us free. The young ' spirit has awakened out of Eternity, and knows not what IDYLLIC. 8 1 we mean by Time ; as yet Time is no fast-hurrying stream, but a sportful sunlit ocean ; years to the child are as ages : ah ! the secret of Vicissitude, of that slower or quicker decay and ceaseless down-rushing of the uni- versal World-fabric, from the granite mountain to the 5 man or day-moth, is yet unknown ; and in a motionless Universe, we taste, what afterwards in this quick-whirl- ing Universe is forever denied us, the balm of Rest. Sleep on, thou fair Child, for thy long rough journey is at hand ! A little while, and thou too shalt sleep no more, 10 but thy very dreams shall be mimic battles ; thou too, with old Arnauld, wilt have to say in srern patience : " Rest ? Rest ? Shall I not have all Eternity to rest in ? " Celestial Nepenthe ! though a Pyrrhus conquer empires, and an Alexander sack the world, he finds thee 15 not ; and thou hast once fallen gently, of thy own ac- cord, on the eyelids, on the heart of every mother's child. For as yet, sleep and waking are one : the fair Life-garden rustles infinite around, and everywhere are dewy fragrance, and the budding of Hope ; which bud- 20 ding, if in youth, too frostnipt, it grow to flowers, will in manhood yield no fruit, but a prickly, bitter-rinded stone-fruit, of which the fewest can find the kernel.' In such rose-coloured light does our Professor, as Poets are wont, look back on his childhood ; the historical 25 details of which (to say nothing of much other vague oratorical matter) he accordingly dwells on, with an al- most wearisome minuteness. We hear of Entepfuhl standing ' in trustful derangement ' among the woody slopes ; the paternal Orchard flanking it as extreme out- 30 post from below ; the little Kuhbach gushing kindly by, among beech-rows, through river after river, into the Donau, into the Black Sea, into the Atmosphere and Universe 5 and how 'the brave old Linden,' stretching g, SAf^TOA' RESARTUS. like a parasol of twenty ells in radius, overtopping all other rows and clumps, towered-up from the central Agora and Citmpus Martins of the Village, like its Sacred Tree ; and how the old men sat talking under its shadow 5 (Gneschen often ^greedily, listening), and the wearied labourers reclined, and the unwearied children sported, and the young men and maidens often danced to flute- music. ' Glorious summer twilights,' cries Teufelsdrockh, ' when the Sun like a proud Conqueror and Imperial lo ' Taskmaster turned his back, with his gold-purple em- ' blazonry, and all his fireclad body-guard (of Prismatic 'Colours); and the tired brickmakers of this clay Earth ' might steal a little frolic, and those few meek Stars ' would not tell of them ! ' 15 Then we have long details of the Weinlescn (Vintage) the Harvest- Home, Christmas, and so forth ; with a whole cycle of the Entepfuhl Children's-games, differing apparently by mere superficial shades from those of other countries. Concerning all which, we shall here, for ob- lo vious reasons, say nothing. What cares the world for our as yet miniature Philosopher's achievements under that ' brave old Linden ' .'' Or even where is the use of such practical reflections as the following .? ' In all the ' sports of Children, were it only in their wanton break- 25 ' ages and defacements, you shall discern a creative in- ' stincl (schaffiniicn Tricb): the Mankin feels that he is a ' born Man, that his vocation is to work. The choicest ' present you can make him is a Tool ; be it knife or pen- 'gun, for construction or for destruction; either way it JO 'is for Work, for Change. In gregarious sports of skill ' or strength, the Poy trains himself to Cooperation, for • war or peace, as governor or governed : the little Maid • again, provident of her domestic destiny, takes with 'preference to Dolls.' ID YLLIC. 83 Perhaps, however, we may give this anecdote, consid- ering who it is that relates it : ' My first short-clothes were of yellow serge ; or rather, I should say, my first short- cloth, for the vesture was one and indivisible, reaching from neck to ankle, a mere body with four limbs : of 5 which fashion how little could I then divine the archi- tectural, how much less the moral significance ! ' More graceful is the following little picture : ' On fine evenings I was wont to carry-forth my supper (bread- crumb boiled in milk), and eat it out-of-doors. On the 10 coping of the Orchard-wall, which I could reach by climbing, or still more easily if Father Andreas would set-up the pruning-ladder, my porringer was placed : there, many a sunset, have I, looking at the distant western Mountains, consumed, not without relish, my 15 evening meal. Those hues of gold and azure, that hush of World's expectation as Day died, were still a Hebrew Speech for me ; nevertheless, I was looking at the fair illuminated Letters, and had an eye for their gilding.' 20 With ' the little one's friendship for cattle and poultry,' we shall not much intermeddle. It may be that hereby he acquired a ' certain deeper sympathy with animated Nature ' ; but when, we would ask, saw any man, in a collection of -Biographical Documents, such a piece as 25 this : ' Impressive enough {bedcutimgsvoll') was it to hear, ' in early morning, the Swineherd's horn ; and know that ' so many hungry happy quadrupeds were, on all sides, ' starting in hot haste to join him, for breakfast on the ' Heath. Or to see them, at eventide, all marching-in 30 ' again, with short squeak, almost in military order ; and ' each, topographically correct, trotting-off in succession ' to the right or left, through its own lane, to its own ' dwelling ; till old Kunz, at the Village-head, now left jj SAA'/VA' HESARTLS. ' alone, blew liis last blast, and retired for the night. We • are wont to love the Hog chiefly in the form of Ham ; • yet did nut these bristly thick-skinned beings here mani- ' fesl intelligence, perhaps humour of character ; at any 5 'rate, a touching, trustful submissiveness to man, — who • were he but a Swineherd, in darned gabardine, and • leather breeches more resembling slate or discoloured- ' tin breeches, is still the Hierarch of this lower world ? ' it is maintained, by Helvetius and his set, that an in- r > fanl of genius is quite the same as any other infant, only that certain surprisingly favourable influences accompany him through life, especially through childhood, and ex- pand him. while others lie closefolded and continue dunces. Herein, say they, consists the whole difference 1 3 between an inspired Prophet and a double-barrelled (iame-preserver : the inner man of the one has been fos- tered into generous development ; that of the other, crushed-down perhaps by vigour of animal digestion, and the like, has exuded and evaporated, or at best sleeps 20 now irresuscitably stagnant at the bottom of his stomach. 'With which opinion,' cries Teufelsdrockh, ' I should as ' soon agree as with this other, that an acorn might, by ' favourable or unfavourable influences of soil and climate, ' be nursed into a cabbage, or the cabbage-seed into an - ^ ' oak. ' Nevertheless,' continues he, ' I too acknowledge the I ' all-l)ut omnipotence of early culture and nurture : hereby ' we have either a doddered dwarf bush, or a hieh-tower- ' ing, wide-shadowing tree ; either a sick yellow cabbage, jp 'or an edible luxuriant green one. Of a truth, it is the 'duty of all men. especially of all philosophers, to note- 'down with accuracy the characteristic circumstances of ' their Education, what furthered, what hindered, what in ' any way modified it : to which duty, nowadays so press- IDYLLIC. 8S ' ing for many a German Autobiographer, I also zeal- ' ously address myself.' — Thou rogue! Is it by short- clothes of yellow serge, and swineherd horns, that an infant of genius is educated ? And yet, as usual, it ever remains doubtful whether he is laughing in his sleeve at 5 these Autobiographical times of ours, or writing from the abundance of his own fond ineptitude. For he con- tinues : ' If among the ever-streaming currents of Sights, Hearings, Feelings for Pain or Pleasure, whereby, as in a Magic Hall, young Gneschen went about environed, I 10 might venture to select and specify, perhaps these fol- lowing were also of the number : ' Doubtless, as childish sports call forth Intellect, Ac- tivity, so the young creature's Imagination was stirred up, and a Historical tendency given him by the narra- 15 tive habits of Father Andreas ; who, with his battle- reminiscences, and grey austere yet hearty patriarchal aspect, could not but appear another Ulysses and "much-enduring Man." Eagerly I hung upon his tales, when listening neighbours enlivened the hearth : from 20 these perils and these travels, wild and far almost as Hades itself, a dim world of Adventure expanded itself within me. Incalculable also was the knowledge I acquired in standing by the Old Men under the Linden- tree : the whole of Immensity was yet new to me ; and 25 had not these reverend seniors, talkative enough, been employed in partial surveys thereof for nigh fourscore years ? With amazement I began to discover that En- tepfuhl stood in the middle of a Country, of a World ; that there was such a thing as History, as Biography ; 3° to which I also, one day, by hand and tongue, might contribute. ' In a like sense worked the Postwagen (Stage-Coach), ' which, slow-rolling under its mountains of men and lug- S6 SAKTOR RESARTUS. gage, wended through our Village : northwards, truly, in the dead of night ; yet southwards visibly at eventide. Not till my eighth year, did 1 reflect that this Postwagen could be other than some terrestrial Moon, rising and setting by mere Law of Nature, like the heavenly one ; lliat it came on made highways, from far cities towards far cities ; weaving them like a monstrous shuttle into closer and closer union. It was then that, indepen- dently of Schiller's Willielm Tell, I made this not quite insignificant reflection (so true also in spiritual things) : An\ road, this simple Entepfuhl road, will lead you to the end of the World! ' Why mention our Swallows, which, out of far Africa as I learned, threading their way over seas and moun- tains, corporate cities and belligerent nations, yearly found themselves, with the month of May, snug-lodged in our Cottage Lobby? The hospitable Father (for clean- liness' sake) had fixed a little bracket plumb under their nest : there they built, and caught flies, and twit- tered, and bred ; and all, I chiefly, from the heart loved them. Bright, nimble creatures, who taught you the mason-craft ; nay, stranger still, gave you a masonic incorporation, almost social police? For if, by ill chance, and when time pressed, your House fell, have I not seen five neighbourly Helpers appear next day; and swashing to and fro, with animated, loud, long-drawn chirpings, and activity almost super-hirundine, complete it again before nightfall? ' IJut undoubtedly the grand summary of Entepfuhl child's culture, where as in a funnel its manifold influ- ences were concentrated and simultaneously poured- down on us. was the annual CatXlfisfaii, Here, assem- bling from all the four winds, came the elements of an unspeakable hurly-burly. Nutbrown maids and nut- ID YLLIC. 87 brown men, all clear-washed, loud-laughing, bedizened and beribanded ; who came for dancing, for treating, and if possible, for happiness. Topbooted Graziers from the North ; Swiss Brokers, Italian Drovers, also topbooted, from the South ; these with their subalterns 5 in leather jerkins, leather skull-caps, and long oxgoads ; shouting in half-articulate speech, amid the inarticulate barking and bellowing. Apart stood Potters from far Saxony, with their crockery in fair rows ; Niirnberg Pedlars, in booths that to me seemed richer than Ormuz 10 bazaars ; Showmen from the Lago Maggiore ; detach- ments of the Wiener Schub (Offscourings of Vienna) vociferously superintending games of chance. Ballad- singers brayed. Auctioneers grew hoarse ; cheap New Wine {Jieuriger) flowed like water, still worse confound- 15 ing the confusion ; and high over all, vaulted, in ground- and-lofty tumbling, a particoloured Merry-Andrew, like the genius of the place and of Life itself.' ' Thus encircled by the mystery of Existence ; under \ the deep heavenly Firmament ; waited-on by the four 20 golden Seasons with their vicissitudes of contribution, , for even grim Winter brought its skating-matches and shooting-matches, its snow-storms and Christmas-carols, — did the Child sit and lear n. These things were the \ Alphabet, whereby in after-time he was to syllable and 25 partly read the grand Volume of the World : what mat- ters it whether such Alphabet be in large gilt letters or in small ungilt ones, so you have an eye to read it.? For Gneschen, eager to learn, the very act of looking thereon was a blessedness that gilded all : his existence 30 was a bright, soft element of Joy ; out of which, as in Prospero's Island, wonder after wonder bodied itself - forth, to teach by charming. gg SARTOR RESARTUS. ' Nevertheless, I were but a vain dreamer to say, that even then my felicity was perfect. 1 had, once for all, come down from Heaven into the Earth. Among the rainbow colours that glowed on my horizon, lay even in childhood a dark ring of Care, as yet no thicker than a thread, and often quite overshone ; yet always it reap- peared, nay ever waxing broader and broader; till in .ifler-years it almost over-shadowed my whole canopy, and threatened to engulf me in final night. Iljvvas the ring ofNecessi^ ^wherebv we are all b egirt ; Jiappy he Jor whom a kind heavenly Sun brighten s It ]nto_a rin«' of Dutv, and plays round it w i th beautiful pris- matic ditfr actions ; Y el.eY£r>-as basis and as bourne for. our wh ole be j ng, it is ther e. ' For the first few years of our terrestrial Apprentice- ship, we have not much work to do ; but, boarded and lodged gratis, are set down mostly to look about us over the workshop, and see others work, till we have under- stood the tools a little, and can handle this and that. If good Passivity alone, and not good Passivity and good Activity together, were the thing wanted, then was my early position favourable beyond the most. In all that respects openness of Sense, affectionate Temper, ingenuous Curiosity, and the fostering of these, what more could I have wished? On the other side, how- ever, things went not so well. My Active Power {That- kni/t ) was unfavourably hemmed-in ; of which misfor- tune how many traces yet abide with me ! In_an orderly house , where the litter of children's sports i_s_hatefiil enou^^h^ vour training is too^stoical ; rather to bear and forbear than to make and do. I was forbid much : wishes in any measure bold I had to renounce ; ev^ry'- where a strait bond of Obedience inflexibly held me down. Th^s already Freewill often came in painful IDYLLIC. g^ CoHisionwith Necessity ; so that my tears flowed, and at seasons the (Jliilcl^~it3elf might taste that root of bit- / terness, wherewith the whole fruitage of our life is min- gled and tempered. ' In which habituation to Obedience, truly, it was be- 5 yond measure safer to err by excess than by defect. Obedience i s our universal duty and destinyj__wherein whoso will not bend must break : too early and too _ thoroughly we cannot be trained to know that Would^'yTJ- in this world of ours, is as mere zero to Should, and forJJ^-r most part as the smallest of fractions even to Shall. Hereby was laid for me the basis of worldly Discretion, • ^ ^ nay, of Morality itself. Let me not quarrel with my up-"" "j"^ bringing ! It was rigorous, too frugal, compressively secluded, every way unscientific : yet in that very strict- 15 ness and domestic solitude might there not lie the root of deeper earnestness, of the stem from which all noble fruit must grow? Above all, how unskilful soever, it was loving, it was well-meant, honest ; whereby every deficiency was helped. My kind Mother, for as such I 20 must ever love the good Gretchen, did me one altogether invaluable service : she taught me, less indeed by word than by act and daily reverent look and habitude, her own simple version of the Christian Faith. Andreas , too attended Church; yet more like a parade duty for 25 which he in the other world expected pay with arrears, — as, I trust, he has received ; but my Mother, with a true woman's heart, and fine though uncultivated sense, was in the strictest acceptation Religious. How inde- structibly the Good grows, and propagates itself, even 3° among the weedy entanglements of Evil ! The highest whom I knew on Earth I here saw bowed down, with awe unspeakable, before a Higher in Heaven : such things, especially in infancy, reach inwards to the very gQ SARTOR RESARTUS. • core of your being ; .mysteriously does a Holy of Holies • build itself into visibility in the mysterious deeps ; and ' Reverence, the divinest in man, springs forth undying •from its mcanV envelopment of Fear. Wouldst thou 5 ' rather l)c a peasant's son that knew, were it never so ' rudely, there was a God in Heaven and in Man ; or a 'duke's son that only knew there were two-and-thirty 'quarters on the family-coach?' To which last question we must answer : Beware, O lo Tiufilsiirockli. of spiritual pride ! CHAPTER HI. PEDAGOGY. HiTHKRTO we see young Gneschen, in his indivisible case of yellow serge, borne forward mostly on the arms of kind Nature alone : seated, indeed, and much to his mind, in the terrestrial workshop ; but (except his soft 15 hazel eyes, which we doubt not already gleamed with a still intelligence) called upon for little voluntary move- ment there. Hitherto, accordingly, his aspect is rather generic, that of an incipient Philosopher and Poet in the abstract : perhaps it would puzzle Herr Heuschrecke 20 himself to say wherein the Special Doctrine of Clothes is as yet foreshadowed or betokened. For with Gneschen, as with others, the Man may indeed stand pictured in the Hoy (at least all the pigments are there) ; yet only some half of the Man stands in the Child, or young Boy, 25 namely, his Passive endowment, not his Active. The more impatient are we to discover what figure he cuts in this latter capacity; how, when, to use his own words, PEDAGOGY. ^i ' he understands the tools a little, and can handle this or that,' he will proceed to handle it. Here, however, may be the place to state that, in much of our Philosopher's history, there is something of an almost Hindoo character : nay, perhaps in that so well 5 fostered and everyway excellent ' Passivity ' of his, which, with no free development of the antagonist Activity, dis- tinguished his childhood, we may detect the rudiments of much that, in after-days, and still in these present days, astonishes the world. For the shallow-sighted, 10 Teufelsdrockh is oftenest a man without Activity of any kind, a No-man ; for the deep-sighted, again, a man with Activity almost superabundant, yet so spiritual, close- hidden, enigmatic, that no mortal can foresee its explo- sions, or even when it has exploded, so much as ascertain 15 its significance. A dangerous, difficult temper for the modern European ; above all, disadvantageous in the hero of a Biography ! Now as heretofore it will behove the Editor of these pages, were it never so unsuccessfully, to do his endeavour. 20 Among the earliest tools of any complicacy which a man, especially a man of letters, gets to handle, are his Clas^^books. On this portion of his History, TeufdTs- drockh looks down professedly as indifferent. Reading he 'cannot remember ever to have learned'; so perhaps 25 had it by nature. He says generally : ' Of the insignifi- cant portion of my Education, which depended on Schools, there need almost no notice be taken, I learned what others learn ; and kept it stored-by in a corner of my head, seeing as yet no manner of use in it. 30 My Schoolmaster, arvdownbent, brokenhearted, under- foot martyr, as other^'bf that guild are, did little for me, except discover that he could do little : he, good soul, pronounced me a genius, fit for the learned professions ; SARTOK A'ESAA'TCS. and that I must be sent to the Gymnasium, and one day to the Tniversity. Meanwhile, what printed thing so- ever I could meet with I read. My very copper pocket- money 1 laid-out on stall-literature ; which, as it accumu- lated, I with my own hands sewed into volumes. By this means was the young head furnished with a consid- erable miscellany of things and shadows of things : His- tory in authentic fragments lay mingled with Fabulous chimeras, wherein also was reality; and the whole not lo as dead stuff, but as living pabulum, tolerably nutritive for a mind as yet so peptic' That the Entepfuhl Schoolmaster judged well, we now know. Indeed, already in the youthful Gneschen, with all his outward stillness, there may have been manifest 15 an inward vivacity that promised much; symptoms of a spirit singularly open, thoughtful, almost poetical. Thus, to say nothing of his Suppers on the Orchard-wall, and other phenomena of that earlier period, have many readers of these pages stumbled, in their twelfth year, on such .:o reflections as the following? 'It struck me much, as I sat by the Ruhbach, one silent noontide, and watched it Mowing, gurgling, to think how this same streamlet had flowed and gurgled, through all changes of w^eather and of fortune, from beyond the earliest date of History. \'es, probably on the morning when Joshua forded Jordan : even as at the mid-day when Caesar, doubtless with difficulty, swam the Nile, yet kept his Comme/ifan'es dry, ^ — this little Ruhbach, assiduous as Tiber, Eurotas or Siloa, was murmuring on across the wilderness, as yet ;,o unnamed, unseen : here, too, as in the Euphrates and the Ganges, is a vein or vein^ of the grand World- circulation of Waters, which, wWi its atmospheric arte- ries, has lasted and lasts simply with the World. Thou fool ! Nature alonj is antique, and the oldest art a PEDAGOGY. 93 f" mushroom ; that idle crag thou sittest on is six-thousand 'years of age.' In which little thought, as in a little fountain, may there not lie the beginning of those well- nigh unutterable meditations on the grandeur and mystejy^of -Time, and its relation to Eternity, which 5 play such a part in this Philosophy of Clothes ? Over his Gymnasic and Academic years the Professor by no means lingers so lyrical and joyful as over his. childhood. Green sunny tracts there are still ; but inter- sected by bitter rivulets of tears, here and there stagnat- 10 ing into sour marshes of discontent. ' With my__fix&t view of the Hinterschlag Gymnasium,' writes he, ' niy evil days began. Well do I still remember the red sunny Whitsuntide morning, when, trotting full of hope by the side of Father Andreas, I entered the main street of the 15 place, and saw its steeple-clock (then striking Eight) and Schuldthurui (Jail), and the aproned or disaproned Burgh- ers moving-in to breakfast : a little dog, in mad terror, was rushing past ; for some human imps had tied a tin- kettle to its tail ; thus did the agonised creature, loud- jingling, career through the whole length of the Borough, and become notable enough. Fit emblem of many a >> Conquerin g Hero, to whom Fate (^wedd ing Fantasy to . Sens^e^^s" it often elsewlier„e^Qes)_Jias. malignantly ap- pended a tin-kettle of Anihitioii^ to chase him on ; 25 20 which, the faster he runs, urges him the faster, the more loudly and more foolishly ! Fit emblem also of much that awaited myself, in that mischievous Den ; as in the world, whereof it was a portion and epitome ! ' Alas, the kind beech-rows of Entepfuhl were hidden 30 in the distance : I wa^mong strangers, harshly, at best indifferently, disposetfllwards me ; the young heart felt, for the first time, quite orphaned and alone.' His school- fellows, as is usual, persecuted him: 'They were Boys,' ^, SAKTOf! KESARTUS. he says, 'mostly rude Boys, and obeyed the impulse of 'rude Nature, which bids the deer-herd fall upon any ' stricken hart, the duck-llock put to death any broken- ' winj^ed brother or sister, and on all hands the strong 5 • tyrannise over the weak.' He admits that though 'per- li.ips in an unusual degree morally courageous,' he suc- ceeded ill in battle, and would fain have avoided it ; a result, as it would appear, owing less to his small per- sonal stature (for in passionate seasons, he was 'in- to credibly nimble'), than to his 'virtuous principles': 'if ' it was disgraceful to be beaten,' says he ' it was only a 'shade less disgraceful to have so much as fought; thus ' was I drawn two ways at once, and in this important 'element of school-history, the war-element, had little 15 'but sorrow.' On the whole, that same excellent 'Pas- sivity,' so notable in Teufelsdrockh's childhood, is here visibly enough again getting nourishment. ' He wept ' often ; indeed to such a degree that he was nicknamed ' Dc-r U't/rit'/ii/c- (the Tearful), which epithet, till towards 20 ' his thirteenth year, was indeed not quite unmerited. 'Only at rare intervals did the young soul burst-forth ' into tire-eyed rage, and, with a Stormfulness (Uhgesfiim) ' under which the boldest quailed, assert that he too had ' Rights of Man, or at least of Mankin.' In all \vhich, .:5 who does not discern a fine flower-tree and cinnamon- tree (of genius) nigh choked among pumpkins, reed-grass, and ignoble shrubs ; and forced, if it would live, to struggle upwards only, and not outwards ; into a /le/g/it quite, sickly, and disproportioned to its breadth / 30 We find, moreover, that his Greek and Latin were ' mechanically ' taught ; Hebra^ scarce even mechani- cally ; much else which they calHI History, Cosmography, Philosophy, and so forth, no better than not at all. So that, except inasmuch as Nature was still busy; and he PEDAGOGY. 95 himself ' went about, as was of old his wont, among the Craftsmen's workshops, there learning many things ; ' and farther lighted on some small store of curious read- ing, in Hans Wachtel the Cooper's house, where hq lodged, — his time, it would appear, was utterly wasted. 5 Which facts the Professor had not yet learned to look upon with any contentment. Indeed, throughout the 'whole of thi s Bag Sco rpio^ where we now are, and often ^x;^ in the following Bag, he shews himself unusually animated on the matter of Education, and not without some touch 10 of what we might presume to be anger. ' My teachers,' says he, ' were hide-bound Pedants, without knowledge of man's nature or of boy's ; or of aught save their lexicons and quarterly account- books. Innumerable dead Vocables (no dead Language, 15 for they themselves knew no Language) they crammed into us, and called it fostering the growth of mind. How can an inanimate, mechanical Gerund-grinder, the like of whom will, in a subsequent century, be manu- factured at Niirnberg out of wood and leather, foster the 20 growth of anything ; much more of Mind, which grows, not like a vegetable (by having its roots littered with 1 etymological compost), but like a Spirit, by mysterious contact of Spirit ; Thought kindling itself at the fire of living Thought ? How shall he give kindling, in 25 whose own inward man there is no live coal, but all is burnt-out to a dead grammatical cinder .'' The Hinter- schlag Professors knew syntax enough ; and of the human soul thus much : that it had a faculty called Memory, and could be acted-on through the muscular 30 integument by appliance of birch-rods. * Alas, so is it everywhere, so will it ever be ; till the Hodman is discharged, or reduced to hodbearing ; and an Architect is hired, and on all hands fitly encouraged; < < \ ^ 96 SA A' TO a: KESA R TVS. 20 O .' tin communities and individuals discover, not without surprise, that fashioning the souls of a generation by Knowledge can rank on a level with blowing their bod- ies to pieces by Gunpowder ; that with Generals and Fieldmarshals for killing, there should be world-honoured Dignitaries, and were it possible, true God-ordained Priests, for teaching. But as yet, though the Soldier wears openly, and even parades, his butchering-tool, nowhere, far as I have travelled, did the Schoolmaster make show of his instructing-tool : nay were he to walk abroad with birch girt on thigh, as if he therefrom ex- pected honour, would there not, among the idler class, perhaps a certain levity be excited ? ' In the third year of this Gymnasic period, Father^n,- tlreas seems to have died : the young Scholar, otherwise so maltreated, saw himself for the first time clad out- wardly in sables, and inwardly in quite inexpressible melancholy. 'The dark bottomless Abyss, that lies un- der our feet, had yawned open ; the pale kingdoms of Death, with all their innumerable silent nations and sen- erations stood before him ; the inexorable word, Never ! now first shewed its meaning. My Mother wept, and her sorrow got vent ; but in my heart there lay a whole lake of tears, pent-up in silent desolation. Neverthe- k -ss th t ^ unworn Spirit is str o ng ; Life io go h ealthful that it even finds nourishment in Death : these stern j(^ exp eriences^ _pTaiTu:rl flown by j^emory in my Imagina- tion, rose there to a whole cypress-forest, sad but beauti- ful ; waving, with not unmelodious sighs, in dark luxu- 30 ' riance, in the hottest sunshine, through long years of youth : — as in manhood also it does, and will do ; for I have now pitched my tent under a Cypress-tree ; the Tomb is now my inexpugnable Fortress, ever close by the gate of which I look upon the hostile armaments, PEDAGOGY, 07 and pains and penalties of tyrannous Life placidly enough, and listen to its loudest threatenings with a still smile. O ye loved ones, that already sleep in the noiseless Bed of Rest, whom in life I could only weep for and never help ; and ye, who wide-scattered still 5 toil lonely in the monster-bearing Desert, dyeing the flinty ground with your blood, — yet a little while, and we shall all meet there, and our Mother's bosom will screen us all ; and Oppression's harness, and Sorrow's hre-whip, and all the Gehenna Bailiffs that patrol and 10 inhabit ever-vexed Time, cannot thenceforth harm us^ Close by which rather beautiful apostrophe, lies a laboured Character of the deceased Andreas Futteral ; of his natural ability, his deserts in life (as Prussian 15 Sergeant); with long historical inquiries into the gene- alogy of the Futteral Family, here traced back as far as Henry the Fowler : the whole of which we pass over, not without astonishment. It only concerns us to add, that now was the time when Mother Gretchen revealed 20 to her foster-son that he was not at all of this kindred ; or indeed of any kindred, having come into historical existence in the way already known to us. ' Thus was I doubly orphaned,' says he ; ' bereft not only of Posses- sion, but even of Remembrance. Sorrow and Wonder, 25 here suddenly united, could not but produce abundant fruit. Such a disclosure, in such a season, struck its roots through my whole nature ; ever till the years of mature manhood, it mingled with my whole thoughts, was as the stem whereon all my day-dreams and night- 30 dreams grew. A certain poetic elevation, yet also a corresponding civic depression, it naturally imparted : I wasUke no other ; in which fixed-idea, leading some- times to highest, and oftener to frightfullest results, may g SARTOK KESARTUS. ' there not lie the first spring of tendencies, which in my • Life have become remarkable enough ? As in birth, 'so in action, speculation, and social position, my fellows 'are perhaps not numerous." in the Hag Sagittarius, as we at length discover, Teu- felsdr()ckh has become a University man ; though how, when, or of what quality, will nowhere disclose itself with the smallest certainty. Few things, in the way of confu- sion and capricious indistinctness, can now surprise our 10 readers ; not even the total want of dates, almost without parallel in a Biographical work. So enigmatic, so cha- otic we have always found, and must always look to find, these scattered Leaves. In Sagittarius, however, Teufels- (Irockh begins to shew himself even more than usually I ; Sii)ylline : fragments of all sorts ; scraps of regular Mejnoir, College-Exercises, Programs, Professional Tes- timoniums, Milkscores, torn Billets, sometimes to appear- ance of an amatory cast ; all blown together as if by merest chance, henceforth bewilder the sane Historian. .:o 'I'o combine any picture of these LTniversity, and the subsequent years; much more, to decipher therein any illustrative primordial elements of the Clothes-Philoso- phy, becomes such a problem as the reader may imagine. So much we can see ; darkly, as through the foliage of J5 some wavering thicket : a youth of no common endow- ment, who has passed happily through Childhood, less happily yet still vigorously through Boyhood, now at length perfect in ' dead vocables,' and set down, as he hopes, by the living Fountain, there to superadd Ideas 30 and Capabilities. From such Fountain he draws, dili- gently, thirstily, yet nowise with his whole heart, for the water nowise suits his palate ; discouragements, entangle- ments, aberrations arc discoverable or supposable. Nc pefTiaps arc even pecuniary d i s tresses w a ntiiig ; for ' the PEDAGOGY. gg *good Gretchen, who in spite of advices from not disin- ' terested relatives has sent him hither, must after a time ' withdraw her willing but too feeble hand.' Neverthe- less in an atmosphere of Poverty and manifold Chagrin, the Humour of that young Soul, what character is in him, 5 first decisively reveals itself ; and, like strong sunshine in weeping skies, gives out variety of colours, some of which are prismatic. Thus, with the aid of Time, and of what Time brings, has the stripling Diogenes Teufels- drockh waxed into manly stature ; and into so question- 10 able an aspect, that we ask with new eagerness. How he specially came by it, and regret anew that there is no more explicit answer. Certain of the intelligible and partially significant fragments, which are few in number, shall be extracted from that Limbo of a Paper-bag, and 15 presented with the usual preparation. As if, in the Bag Scorpio^ Teufelsdrockh had not al- ready expectorated his antipedagogic spleen ; as if, from the name Sagitta?'ius, he had thought himself called upon to shoot arrows, we here again fall-in with such matter as 20 this : 'The University where I was educated still stands- vivid enough in my remembrance, and I know its name well ; which name, however, I, from tenderness to exist- ing interests and persons, shall in nowise divulge. It 1 is my painful duty to say that, out of England andips Spain, ours was the worst of all hitherto discovered |i Universities. This is indeed a time when right Educa-'^ tion is, as nearly as may be, impossible : however, in degrees of wrongness there is no limit : nay, I can conceive a worse system than that of the Nameless it- 30 self ; as poisoned victual may be worse than absolute hunger. ' It is written, When the blind lead the blind, both * shall fall into the ditch ; wherefore, in such circum- 10 -5 ,oo SARTOR RESARJVS. stances, may it not sometimes be safer, if both leader and led simply — sit still ? Had you, anywhere in Crim Tartary, wallcd-in a square enclosure ; furnished it with a small, ill-chosen Library ; and then turned loose into it clcvcn-hundrcd Christian striplings, to tumble about as they listed, from three to seven years : certain per- sons, under the title of Professors, being stationed at the gates, to declare aloud that it was a University, and exact considerable admission-fees, — you had, not in- deed in mechanical structure, yet in spirit and result, some imperfect resemblance of our High Seminary.y I say, imperfect ; for if our mechanical structure was quite other, so neither was our result altogether the same : unhappily, we were not in Crim Tartary, but in a cor- rupt European city, full of smoke and sin ; moreover, in the middle of a Public, which, without far costlier ap- paratus, than that of the Square Enclosure, and Decla- ration aloud, you could not be sure of gulling. 'Gullible, however, by fit apparatus, all Publics are; and gulled, with the most surprising profit. Towards any thing like a Statistics of hnposture. indeed, little as yet has been done : with a strange indifference, our Econ- omists, nigh buried under Tables for minor Branches of Industry, have altogether overlooked the grand all- overtopping Hypocrisy Branch; as if our whole arts of Puffery, of Quackery, Priestcraft, Kingcraft, and the innumerable other crafts and mysteries of that genus, h.id not ranked in Productive Industry at all ! Can any ' ne, for example, so much as say, What moneys, in Lit- erature and Shocblacking, are realised by actual In- struction and actual jet Polish ; what by fictitious-per- suasive Proclamation of such ; specifying, in distinct items, the distributions, circulations, disbursements, in- comings of said moneys, with the smallest approach to I PEDAGOGY. lOl accuracy? But to a<>k, How far, ^p ^] ] fhp Qpvf^ral ip fj. iiitely-complected departments of social business, in government, education, in manual, commercial, intellect- ual fabrication of every sort, man's Want is supplied by true W ara^ how far by the mere appearance of true VVare : — in other words. To what extent, by what methods, with what effects, in various timss and coun- tries, De ception takes the place and wag^es of Perfonn - A^ ancejlji^^re truly is an Inquiry big wirh resuKs .for th§ ^ future time, but to which hitherto only the vaguest lo . answer can be given. If for the present, in our Europe, we estimate the ratio of Ware to Appearance of Ware so high even as at One to a Hundred (which considering -H^ -^ the Wages of a Pope, Russian Autocrat, or English Game- Preserver, is probably not far from the mark), — what 15 almost prodigious saving may there not be anticipated, as the Sta tistics of Imposture advanc eSr^nd <^n t h^ m an^ uf ,1 c t n rjag^f _ShaiTis (that of Realities rising into clearer and clearer distinction therefrom) gradually declines, and at length becomes all but wholly unnecessary ! 20 ' This for the coming golden ages. What I had to remark, for the present braze n one, is, that in several J^^Hi provinces, as in Education, Polity, Religion, where so much is wanted and indispensable, and so little can as yet be furnished, probably Imposture is of sanative, 25 anodyne nature, and man's Gullibility not his worst blessing. Suppose your sinews of war quite broken; .qva/' I mean your military chest insolvent, forage all but ^ exhausted ; and that the whole army is about to mutiny, ^^^'--^ disband, and cut your and each other's throat, — then 30 were it not well could you, as if by miracle, pay them in any sort of fairy-money, feed them on coagulated water, or mere imagination of meat ; whereby, till the real sup- ply came up, they might be kept together and quiet.? ,02 SARTOR RESARTCrS. I' Such perhaps was the aim of Nature, who does nothing • without aim, in furnishing her favourite, Man, with this 'his so omnipotent or rather omnipatient Talent of being • Gulled, 'How beautifully it works, with a little mechanism; nay, almost makes mechanism for itself ! These Pro- fessors in the Nameless lived with ease, with safety, by a Tnere R'epufalibn constructed in past times, and then too-\X'ith' no great effort by quite another class of per- sons: \Vhich Reputation, like a strong brisk-going un- dershot wheel, sunk into the general current, bade fair, with only a little annual repamting on their part, to hold long together, and of its own accord assiduously grind for them. Happy that it was so, for the Millers ! They themselves needed not to work ; their attempts at w^ork- ing, at what they called Educating, now when I look back on it, fill me with a certain mute admiration. Truly a Thinking Man is the worst enemy the 30 1 Prince of Darkness can have ; every time such a one announces himself. I doubt not, there runs a shudder ' through the Nether Empire ; and new Emissaries are ' trained, with new tactics, to, if possible, entrap him. > 'and hoodwink and hindcufi" him. GETTING UNDER WAY. jon ' With such high vocation had I too, as denizen of the Universe, been called. Unhappy it is, however, that though born to the amplest Sovereignty, in this way, with no less than sovereign right of Peace and War against the Time-Prince {Zeitfilrst)^ or Devil, and all his 5 Dominions, your coronation-ceremony costs such trouble, your sceptre is so difficult to get at, or even to get eye on!' By which last wiredrawn similitude, does Teufelsdrockh mean no more than that young men find obstacles in 10 what we call 'getting under way'? 'Not what I Have,' continues he, ' but what I Do is my Kingdom. To each is given a certainlnward Talent, a certain outward En- vironment of Fortune ; to each, by wisest combination of these two, a certain maximum of Capability. But 1 5 the hardest problem were ever this first : To find by stu dy of yourself, and of the ground you stand on, what your combined inward and outward Lapabiluy specially , is.' P"or, alas, our young soul is all budding with Capa- ,' bilides, and we see not yet which is the main and true io one. Always too the new man is in a new time, under new conditions ; his course can be the facsimile of no prior one, but is by its nature original. And then how seldom will the outward Capability fit the inward : though talented wonderfully enough, we are poor, un- 25 friendly, dyspeptical, bashful ; nay, what is worse than all, we are foolish. Thus, in a whole imbroglio of Cap- abilities, we go stupidl;f groping about, to grope which is ours, and often clutch the wrong one : in this mad work must several years of our small term be spent, till 3° the purblind Youth , by practice, acquire notions of dis- tance, and becoiN^e a seeing Man. Nay, many so spend -]"' their whole term, and in ever-new expectation, ever-new \ disappointment, shift from enterprise to enterprise, and \ 1 lO SARTOK RESARTUS. y from siuc lo side : till at length, as exasperated strips linj^s of threescore-and-ten, they shift into their last enterprise, that of getting buried. ' Such, since the most of us are too ophthalmic, would be the general fate ; were it not that one thing saves us : our Hunger. For on this ground, as the prompt nature of Hunger is well known, must a prompt choice be made : hence have we, with wise foresight, Inden- tures and Apprenticeships for our irrational young; whereby, in due season, the vague universality of a Man shall find himself ready-moulded into a specific Crafts- man ; and so thenceforth work, with much or with little waste of Capability as it may be ; yet not with the worst waste, that of time. Nay even in matters spiritual, since the spiritual artist too is born blind, and does not, like certain other creatures, receive sight in nine days, but far later, sometimes never, — is it not well that there should be what we call Professions, or Bread-studies {Brodzii'trke), preappointed us? Here, circling like the gin-horse, for whom partial or total blindness is no evil, the Bread-artist can travel contentedly round and round, still fancying that it is forward and forward ; and realise much : for himself victual ; for the world an additional horse's power in the grand corn-mill or hemp-mill of Pxronomic Society. For me too had such a leading- string been provided ; only that it proved a neck-halter, and had nigh throttled me, till I broke it off. Then, in the words of Ancient Pistol, di3 the World generally be- come mine oyster, which I, by strength or cunning, was to open, as I would and could. Almost had I deceased {/list war ich umgekomvieti), so obstinately did it continue shut.' We see here, significantly foreshadowed, the spirit of much th.it was to befall our Autobiographer ; the histor- GETTING UNDER WAY. m ical embodiment of which, as it painfully takes shape in his Life, lies scattered, in dim disastrous details, through this ^2.^ Pisces, and those that follow. A young man of high talent, and high though still temper, like a young mettled colt, ' breaks-off his neck-halter,' and bounds 5 forth, from his peculiar manger, into the wide world ; which, alas, h e finds all rigorously fenced-i n. Richest clover-fields tempt his eye; but to him they are for- bidden pasture : either pining in progressive starvation, he must stand ; or, in mad exasperation, must rush to and 10 fro, leaping against sheer stone-walls, which he cannot leap over, which only lacerate and lame him ; till at last, after thousand attempts and endurances, he, as if by miracle, clears his way : not indeed into luxuriant and luxurious clover, yet into a certain bosky wilderness 15 where existence is still possible, and Freedom, though waited on by Scarcity, is not without sweetness. In a / word, Teufelsdrockh having thrown-up his legal Profes--^ sion, finds himself without landmark of outward guid- ance ; ximeVeby his previous want of decided Belief, or 20 inward guidance, is frightfully aggravated. J Necessity urges him on ; Time will not stop, neither can he, a Son of Time ; wild passions without solacement, wild facul- ties without employment, ever vex and agitate him. He too must enact that stern Monodrama, No Object and no 25 Rest; must front its successive destinies, work through to its catastrophe, and deduce therefrom what moral he can. Yet let us be just to him, let us admit that his ' neck- halter ' sat nowise easy on him ; that he w^as in some de- gree forced to break it off. If we look at the young 30 man's civic position, in this Nameless capital, as he emerges from its Nameless University, we can discern well that it was far from enviable. His first Law-Exam- ination he has come through triumphantly ; and can even ,,, SAK/OA' A'/:SAA'Ti'S. boast that the Examen Rigorosurn need not have fright- rncd liiin : but though he is hereby ' an Auscultator of respectabihty' what avails it? There is next to no em- plovment to be had. Neither for a youth vvftliout con- \ iicxions. is tlie process of Expectation very hopeful in itself; nor for one of his disposition much cheered from without. ' My fellow Auscultators,' he says, ' were Aus- ' cultators : they dressed, and digested, and talked artic- ■ ulate words ; other vitality shewed they almost none. lo ' Small speculation in those eyes, that they did glare ' withal ! Sense neither for the high nor for the deep, ' nor for aught human or divine, save only for the faintest ' scent of coming Preferment.' In which words, indicat- ing a total estrangement on the part of Teufelsdrockh, 1 5 may there not also lurk traces of a bitterness as from wounded vanity? Doubtless these prosaic Auscultators may have sniffed at him, with his strange ways ; and tried to hate, and what was much more impossible, to despise him. I'Yiendly communion, in any case, there .:o could not be : already has the young Teufelsdrockh left the either young geese ; and swims apart, though as yet uncertain whether he himself is c\^net or gosling. Perhaps tf)o what little employment he had was per- formed ill, at best unpleasantly. ' Great practical method -•5 and expertness' he may brag of; but is there not also great practical pride, though deep-hidden, only the deeper- seated ? So shy a man can never have been popular. \Vc figure to ourselves, how in those days he may have played strange freaks with his independence, and so 30 forth : do not his own words betoken as much? 'Like ' a very young person, I imagined it was with Work alone, 'and not also with Folly and Sin, in myself and others, 'that I have been appointed to struggle.' Be this as it 'may. his progress from the passive Auscultatorship, to- GETTING UNDER WAY. u^ wards any active Assessorship, is evidently of the slowest. By degrees, those same established men, once partially inclined to patronise him, seem to withdraw their coun- tenance, and give him up as 'a man of genius:' against which procedure he, in these Papers, loudly .protests. 5 As if,' says he, ' the higher did not presuppose the lower ; as if he who can fly into heaven, could not also walk post if he resolved on it ! But the world is an oldl*^ woman, and mistakes any gilt farthing for^Tgol'd^coin : ) •-f^ whereby being qfteii cheated she will thenceforth trust Jio'"'^'^ nothing biit the common copper.' 11-^2. How our winged sky-messenger, unaccepted as a ter- restrial runner, contrived, in the mean while, to keep him- self from flying skyward without return, is not too clear from these Documents. Good old Gretchen seems to 15 have vanished from the scene, perhaps from the Earth ; other Horn of Plenty, or even of Parsimony, nowhere flows for him ; so that ' the prompt nature of Hunger being well known,' we are not without our anxiety. From private Tuition, in never so many languages and sciences, 20 the aid derivable is small ; neither, to use his own words, ' does the young Adventurer hitherto suspect in himself ' any literary gift ; but at best earns bread-and-water ' wages, by his wide faculty of Translation. Neverthe- ' less,' continues he, ' that I subsisted is clear, for you 25 ' find me even now alive.' Which fact, however, except upon the principle of our true-hearted, kind old Proverb, that ' there is always life for a living one,' we must pro- fess ourselves unable to explain. Certain Landlords' Bills, and other economic Docu- 30 ments, bearing the mark of Settlement, indicate that he was not without money ; but, like an independent Hearth- holder, if not House-holder, paid his way. Here also occur, among many others, two little mutilated Notes, J , J SAKTOK RESAKTUS. which perhaps throw light on his condition. The first has now no date, or writer's name, but a huge Blot ; and runs to this effect : ' The {Inkblot), tied-down by previ- •ous promise, cannot, except by best wishes, forward the 5 ' Hcrr Teufclsdrockh's views on the Assessorship in •question ; and sees himself under the cruel necessity of 'forbearing, f<»r the present, what were otherwise his 'duty ami joy, to assist in opening the career for a man • of genius, on whom far higher triumphs are yet waiting.' lo 'I'he other is on gilt paper ; and interests us like a sort of epistolary mummy now dead, yet which once lived and beneficently worked. We give it in the original : ' Ilerr ' Tfufclsiitoikli wini ron dcr Frau Grdfinn, mif Donners- ' ttii^, zum .^KsTHKTiscHEN Thee scliofistciis eingeladen.' 15 Thus in answer to a cry for solid pudding, whereof there is the most urgent need, comes epigrammatically enough, the invitation to a wash of quite fluid yEsthetic T(a ! How Teufelsdrockh, now at actual handgrips with Destiny herself, may have comported himself among 20 these Musical and Literary Dilettanti of both sexes, like a hungry lion invited to a feast of chickenweed, we can only conjecture. Perhaps in expressive silence, and ab- stinence : otherwise if the lion, in such case, is to feast at all, it cannot be on the chickenweed, but only on the 25 chickens. For the rest, as this Frau Grafinn dates from the Ziihdarm House, she can be no other than the Count- ess and mistress of the same ; whose intellectual tenden- cies, and good will to Teufelsdrockh, whether on the foot- ing of Herr Towgood, or on his own footing, are hereby 30 manifest. That some sort of relation, indeed, continued, for a time, to connect our Autobiographer, though per- haps feebly enough, with this noble House, we have else- where express evidence. Doubtless, if he expected patronage, it was in vain; enough for him if he here GETTING UNDER WAY. ^r obtained occasional glimpses of the great world, from which we at one time fancied him to have been always excluded. The Zahdarms,' says he, ' lived in the soft, smnptuous ' garniture of Aristocracy ; whereto Literature and Art, attracted and attached from without, were to serve as 5 the handsomest fringing. It was to the Gnddigen Fran (her Ladyship) that this latter improvement was due : assiduously she gathered, dexterously she fitted-on, what fringing was to be had ; lace or cobweb, as the place ' yielded.' Was Teufelsdrockh also a fringe, of lace or 10 cobweb ; or promising to be such ? ' With his Excellenz (the Count),' continues he, ' I have more than once had the honour to converse ; chiefly on general affairs, and the aspect of the world, which he, though now past middle life, viewed in no unfavourable light ; finding 15 indeed, except the Outrooting of Journalism {die aus- zurottende Journalistik), little to desiderate therein. On some points, as his Excellenz was not iincholeric, I found it more pleasant to keep silence, v Besides, his occupation being that of Owning Land, there might be 20 faculties enough, which, a^ superfluous for such use, were little developed in hini\' That to Teufelsdrockh tne aspect of the world was nowise so faultless, and many things besides ' the Out- rooting of Journalism,' might have seemed improvements, 25 we can readily conjecture. With nothing but a barren Auscultatorship from without, and so many mutinous thoughts and wishes from within, his position was no easy one. 'The Universe,' he says, 'was as a mighty ; Sphinx-riddle, which I knew so little of, yet must rede, |o or be devoured. In red streaks of unspeakable gran- 1 deur, yet also in the blackness of darkness, was Life to my too-unfurnished Thought, unfolding itself. A strange contradiction lay in me ; and I as yet knew not the I 10 SA A' TO A' A:£SA A' 7 VS. .lution of it : i-.y-w nnt th;it spiritual music caij_smiug :,Iv from discurds set in hariuun y ; that but for Evil :;^7r"were no Good, as victory is only possible by ..I » i have heard atTirmed (surely in jest),' observes he l>cwhere, 'by not unphilanthropic persons, that it were a real increase of human happiness, could all young men from the age of nineteen be covered under barrels, or rendered otherwise invisible ; and there left to follow their lawful studies and callings, till they emerged, sad- der and wiser, at the age of twenty-five. With which >uj;«;estion, at least as considered in the light of a prac- tical scheme. 1 need scarcely say that I nowise coincide. Nevertheless it is plausibly urged that, as young ladies I Mdiiilu'H) are, to mankind, precisely the most delightful in those years ; so young gentlemen {Biibchen) do then attain their maximum of detestability. Such gawks {Geck(fi) are ihey, and foolish peacocks, and yet with such a vulturous hunger for self-indulgence ; so obstinate, obstreperous, vain-glorious ; in all senses, so froward and so forward. No mortal's endeavour or attainment will, in the smallest, content the as yet unendeavouring, un- attaining young gentkman; but he could make it all infinitely better, were it worthy of him. Life everywhere IS the most manageable matter, simply as a question in '''■ Rule-of-Three; multiply your second and third term :her, divide the product by the first, and your quo- tient will be the answer, — which you are but an ass if you cannot come at. The booby has not yet found-out, by any trial, that, do what one will, there is ever a cursed fraction, oftcnest a decimal repeater, and no net integer quotient so much as to be thought of.' In which passage does there not lie an implied con- fession that Teufelsdrockh himself, besides his outward GETTING UNDER WAY. ny obstructions, had an inward, still greater, to contend with ; namely, a certain temporary, youthful, yet still afflictive derangement of head ? Alas, on the former side alone, his case was hard enough. ' It continues ever true,' says he, ' that Saturn, or Chronos, or what we 5 call Time, devours all his Children : o nly by incessant C{/l^ Running, by incessant Working, may you (for some ^ threescore-and-ten years) escape him ; and you too he ^ >c devours at last. Can any Sovereign, or Holy Alliance 'H^ of Sovereigns, bid Time stand still; even in thought, 10'; i shake themselves free of Time ? Our whole terrestrial /] /^. being is based on Time, and built of Time ; it is wholly a Movemeni, a Time-impulse ; 'I'lme is thg:.,:aSIEQr^of it, the materi;ii-ef--iti— :.^ence alsojiuC^^Whole Duty, which is toQnove, to wor]?p=nnthe right direction. 15. i Are not our BoEies and our Souls in continual move- \ I ment, whether we will or not ; in a continual Waste, j requiring a continual Repair ? Utmost satisfaction of \ \ our whole outward and inward Wants were but satisfac- tion for a space of Time ; thus, whatso we have done, 20 is done, and for us annihilated, and ever must we go and do anew. O Time-Spirit, how h ast thou environed and impris oned us , and sunk us*so deep in thy troub- lous dim Time-Element, that, only in lucid moments, \ can so much as glimpses of our upper Azure Home 25 be revealed to us ! Me, however, as a Son of Time, ■ unhappier than some others, was Time threatening to eat quite prematurely ; for, strive as I might, there was no good Running, so obstructed was the path, so gyved were the feet.' That is to say, we presume, 3o\ ^^ speaking in the dialect of this lower world, that Teufels- : " drockh's whole duty and necessity was, like other men's, \ ' to work, - — in the right direction,' and that no work was • to be had ; whereby he became wretched enough. As SAJ^TOR J^ESAKTUS. was natural : with haggard Scarcity threatening him in the distance; and so vehement a soul languishing in restless inaction, and forced thereby, like Sir Hudibras's sword by rust. 5 i o cat mio Itself, for lack ( )f somethiiv:: else to hew and hack ! ilu: whole, rnai saiiiL- 'excellent Passivity,' as it ..... .... ...ong done, is here again vigorously flourishing; in which circumstance may we not trace the beginnings lo of much that now characterises our Professor ; and per- haps, in faint rudiments, the origin of the Clothes-Philoso- phy itself.^ Alrea dy the attitude he has as sumed towards !!: '*, -!f l is^ too defensive ; not, as would have been a bold attitude of attack. 'So far hitherto,' i,. > lys, *as I had mingled with mankind, I was notable, ' if for any thing, for a certain stillness of manner, which, ' as my friends often rebukingly declared, did but ill ' express the keen ardour of my feelings. I, in truth, ' tfgarded men with an excess both of love and of fear. The mystery of a Person, indeed, is ever divine, to him that has a sense for the Godlike. Often, notwithstand- ing, was I blamed, and by half-strangers hated, for my so-called Hardness {Iliirfe), my IndifTerentism towards men ; and the seemingly ironic tone I had adopted, as my favourite dialect in conversation. Alas, the panoply of Sarcasm was but as a buckram case, wherein I had striven to envelope myself; that so my own poor Per- son might live safe there, and in all friendliness, being no longer exasperated by wounds. Sarcasm I now see t,. 1... ;,, •.•neral, the language of the Devil; for which ^ c long since as good as renounced it. But Hiow many individuals did I, in those days, provoke into ■ some degree of hostility thereby ! An ironic man, with GETTING UNDER WAY. uo ' his sly stillness, and ambuscading ways, more especially ' an ironic young man, from whom it is least expected, 'may be viewed as a pest to society. Have we not seen ' persons of weight and name, coming forward, with gent- ' lest indifference, to tread such a one out of sight, as an 5 ' insignificancy and worm, start ceiling-high (Jmlkenhodi)^ 'and thence fall shattered and supine, to be borne home ' on shutters, not without indignation, when he proved ' electric and a torpedo ! ' Alas, how can a man with this devilishness of temper 10 make way for himself in Life ; where the first problem, as Teufelsdrockh too admits, is ' to unite yourself with some one, and with somewhat {sicTi'atizusc/i liessen) ' ? Di- /^ vision, 1101 uiiluii, is WliLLeii 011 most part of his procedure. Let us add too, that, in no great length of time, the only 15 important connexion he had ever succeeded in forming, his connexion with the Zahdarm Family, seems to have been paralysed, for all practical uses, by the death of the ' not uncholeric ' old Count. This fact stands recorded, quite incidentally, in a certain Discourse on Epitaphs., 20 huddled into the present Bag, among so much else ; of which Essay the learning and curious penetration are more to be approved of than the spirit. His grand prin- ciple is, that lapidary inscriptions, of what sort soever, should be Historical rather than Lyrical. ' By request of 25 ' that worthy Nobleman's survivors,' says he, ' I under- ' took to compose his Epitaph ; and not unmindful of my ' own rules, produced the following ; which however, for ' an alleged defect of Latinity, a defect never yet fully ' visible to myself, still remains unengraven ; ' — wherein, 30 we may predict, there is more than the Latinity that will surprise an English reader : ^2o S.-i A' 7VA' A'ASAA^rrS. HIC JACET nilMPPUS ZAEHDARM, COGNOMINE MAGNUS, Zakhdar.mi Comes ex imperii concilio, 5 VtLLERJS AIREI, PERISCELIDIS, NECNON VULTURIS NIGRI EQUES. QUI DUM SUB LUNA AGEBAT, QUINQUIES MILLE PERDRICES PLUMBO CON FECIT : lo VARII CIBI CENTUMPONDIA MILLIES CENTENA MTLLIA, PER SE, PER(,>UE SeRVOS QUADRUPEDES BIPEDESVE, HAUn SINE TUMULTU DEVOLVENS, IX STERCUS 15 PAL AM CONVERTIT. NUNC A LABORE REQUIESCENTEM OPERA SEQUUNTUR. SI MONUMENTUM QU.ERIS, FIMETUM ADSPICE. 30 PKIMIM IV MKP.F F>EJIX1T [sud tfa/oy, POSTREMl'M [sud da/o}. CHAPTER V. Kt >M WCE. • For long }cMi:5,' wriiL's reufelsdrockh, 'had the poor 'Hebrew, in this F^^ypt of an Auscultatorship, painfully ' toiled, bakinj; bricks without stubble, before ever the •question once struck him with entire force : For what? ROMANCE. 121. ^ Beym Himmel I For Food and Warmth ! And are ' Food and Warmth nowhere else, in the whole wide 'Universe, discoverable? — Come of it what might, I ' resolved to try.' Thus then are we to see him in a new independent 5 capacity, though perhaps far from an improved one. Teufelsdrockh is now a man without Profession. Quit- ting the common Fleet of herring-busses and whalers, where indeed his leeward, laggard condition was painful enough, he desperately steers off, on a course of his own, 10 by sextant and compass of his own. Unhappy Teufels- drockh ! Though neither Fleet, nor Traffic, nor Commo- dores pleased thee, still was it not a Fleets sailing in prescribed track, for fixed objects ; above all, in combina- tion, wherein, by mutual guidance, by all manner of loans 15 and borrowings, each could manifoldly aid the other? How wilt thou sail in unknown seas ; and for thyself find that shorter Northwest Passage to thy fair Spice-country of a Nowhere? — A solitary rover, on such a voyage, with such nautical tactics, will meet with adventures. Nay, 20 as we forthwith discover, a certain Calypso-Island detains him at the very outset ; and as it were falsifies and over- sets his whole reckoning. 'If in youth,' writes he once, 'the Universe is majesti-^ cally unveiling, and everywhere Heaven revealing itself 725 on Earth, nowhere to the Young Man does this Heaven j on Earth so immediately reveal itself as in the Young (y Maiden. Strangely enough, in this strange life of ours, it has been so appointed. On the whole, as I have often said, a Person {PersoJiIichkeit') is ever holy to us ; 30 a certain orthodox Anthropomorphism connects my Me with all lliees in bonds of Love : but it is in this approx- imation of the Like and Unlike, that such heavenly at- traction, as between Negative and Positive, first burns- ,,, S A A' TOR RESARTUS. 'out into a llame. Is the pitifullest mortal Person, think • you, indilTcrcnt to us? Is it not rather our heartfelt wish • to be made one with him ; to unite him to us, by grati- • tudc, by admiration, even by fear ; or failing all these, 5 'unite ourselves to him? P.ut how much more, in this 'rase of the Likc-Unlike ! Here is conceded us the ' hi-her mystic possibility of such a union, the highest in 'our Karth ; thus, in the conducting medium of Fantasy, • Hames-forlh that y/zr-development of the universal Spir- 10 ' itual Electricity, which, as unfolded between man and ' woman, we first emphatically denominate Love. ' In ever)' well-conditioned stripling, as I conjecture, ' there already blooms a certain prospective Paradise, ' cheered l)y some fairest Eve ; nor, in the stately vistas, 15 'and riowerage and foliage of that Garden, is a Tree of ' Knowledge, beautiful and awful in the midst thereof, ' wanting. Perhaps too the whole is but the lovelier, if 'Cherubim and a Flaming Sword divide it from all foot- ' ste|)s of men : and grant him, the imaginative stripling, • . 'only the view, not the entrance. Happy season of vir- ^ V* * tuous youth, when shame is still an impassable celestial -v' ' barrier : nml th^ sirrod lii 1 ilii nf Hrrpr hnvr not -^-'slirunk into the mea n clay-hamlets of Reality: an djnan, ' I'V Ms naui rcFTiry eTin finite and free ! ' As for our youngForlorh,' co'ntinues Teufelsdrockh, evidently meaning himself, ' in his secluded way of life, *and with his glowing Fantasy, the more fiery that it • burnt under cover, as in a reverberating furnace, his ' feeling towards the Queens of this Earth was, and ndecd is. altogether unspeakable. A visible Divinity dwelt m them; to our young Friend all women were ' holy, were heavenly. As yet he but saw them flitting • past, in their many-coloured angel-plumage ; or hover- 'inr im.fi' ;mu1 inaccessible on the outskirts of .-Esthetic ROMANCE. 123 ' Tea : all of air they were, all Soul and Form ; so lovely, ' like mysterious priestesses, in whose hand was the in- ' visible Jacob's-ladder, whereby man might mount into ' very Heaven. That he, our poor Friend, should ever 'win for himself one of these Gracefuls (Ho/den) — Ac/i 5 ' GoU/ how could he hope it ; should he not have died 'under it? There was a certain delirious vertigo in the ' thought. ' Thus, was the young man, if all-sceptical of Demons ' and Angels such as the vulgar had once believed in, 10 ' nevertheless not unvisited by hosts of true Sky-born, ' who visibly and audibly hovered round him wheresoever ' he went ; and they had that religious worship in his * thought, though as yet it was by their mere earthly and ' trivial name that he named them. But now, if on a soul 15 ' so circumstanced, some actual Air-maiden, incorporated ' into tangibility and reality, should cast any electric ' glance of kind eyes, saying thereby, " Thou too may- ' est love and be loved ; " and so kindle him, — good ' Heaven, what a volcanic, earthquake-bringing, all-con- 20 ' suming fire were probably kindled ! ' Such a fire, it afterwards appears, did actually burst- forth, with explosions more or less Vesuvian, in the inner man of Herr Diogenes ; as indeed how could it fail ? A nature, which, in his own figurative style, we might say, 25 had now not a little carbonised tinder, of Irritability ; with so much nitre of latent Passion, and sulphurous Humour enough ; the whole lying in such hot neighbour- hood, close by ' a reverberating furnace of Fantasy : ' have we not here the components of driest Gunpowder, 30 ready, on occasion of the smallest spark, to blaze-up .-" Neither, in this our Life-element, are sparks anywhere wanting. Without doubt, some Angel, whereof so many hovered round, would one day, leaving ' the outskirts of SARTOR RESARTUS. A'.unciu T€a: Hit nigher; and by electric Promethean glance, kindle no despicable firework. Happy, if it in- deed proved a Firework, and fiamed-off rocket-wise, in successive beautiful bursts of splendour, each growing 5 naluraily from the other, through the several stages of a happy Youthful Love ; till the whole were safely burnt out; and the young soul relieved, with little damage! Happy, if it did not rather prove a Conflagration and m.ad Kxpiosion ; painfully lacerating the heart itself ; nay 10 perhaps bursting the heart in pieces (which were Death) ; or at best, bursting the thin walls of your ' reverberating furnace,' so that it rage thenceforth all unchecked among the contiguous combustibles (which were Madness) : till of the so f.iir and manifold internal world of our Diog- 1 5 enes, there remained Nothing, or only the ' crater of an extinct volcano ! ' From multifarious Documents in this Bag Capricornus, and in the adjacent ones on both sides thereof, it becomes manifest that our philosopher, as stoical and cynical as :o he now looks, was heartily and even frantically in Love ; here therefore may our old doubts whether his heart were of stone or of flesh give way. He loved once ; not wisely but too well. And once only : for as your Con- greve needs a new case or wrappage for every new rocket, 25 so each human heart can properly exhibit but one Love, if_ev_en one; the * First Love which is infinite' can be followed by no second like unto it. In more recent years, accordingly, the Editor of these Sheets was led to regard Teufelsdrockh as a man not only who would never p wed, but who would never even flirt ; whom the grand- climacteric itself, and St. Martin s Sufftifier of incipient Dotage, would crown with no new myrtle-garland. To the I*rofessor, women are henceforth Pieces of Art ; of r-,.i..vtMi \rt. indeed; which celestial pieces he ROMANCE. j2t: glories to survey in galleries, but has lost thought of purchasing. Psychological readers are not without curiosity to see how Teufelsdrockh, in this for him unexampled predica- ment, demeans himself ; with what specialties of succes- 5 sive configuration, splendour and colour, his Firework blazes-off. Small, as usual, is the satisfaction that such can meet with here. From amid these confused masses of Eulogy and Elegy, with their mad Petrarchan and Wer- terean ware lying madly scattered among all sorts of quite 10 extraneous matter, not so much as the fair one's name can be deciphered. For, without doubt, the title BIii- mine^ whereby she is here designated, and which means simply Goddess of Flowers, must be fictitious. Was her real name Flora, then? But what was her surname, or 15 had she none ? Of what station in Life was she ; of what parentage, fortune, aspect ? Specially, by what Prees- tablished Harmony of occurrences did the Lover and the Loved meet one another in so wide a world ; how did they behave in such meeting t To all which questions, 20 not unessential in a Biographic w^ork, mere Conjecture must for most part return answer. ' It was appointed,' says our Philosopher, 'that the high celestial orbit of Blumine should intersect the low sublunary one of our Forlorn ; that he, looking in her empyrean eyes, should fancy the 25 upper Sphere of Light was come down into this nether sphere of Shadows ; and finding himself mistaken, make noise enough.' We seem to gather that she was young, hazel-eyed, beautiful, and some one's Cousin ; highborn and of high 30 spirits ; but unhappily dependent and insolvent ; living, perhaps, on the not too gracious bounty of moneyed rela- tives. But how came ' the Wanderer ' into her circle "i Was it by the humid vehicle of Esthetic Tea., or by the ,,^ SARTOR RESARTUS. and one of mere Business ? Was it on the hand of Herr Towgood ; or of the (inadige Frau, who, as an ornamen- tal Artist, might sometimes lilce to promote flirtation, especially for young cynical Nondescripts? To all ap- 5 |>earance, it was chicHy by Accident, and the grace of Nature. 'Thou fair Waldschloss,' writes our Autobiographer, ' what stranger ever saw thee, were it even an absolved ■ \uscultator, othcially bearing in his pocket the last lo ' KdtUio ex Actis he would ever write, but must have ' paused to wonder ! Noble Mansion ! There stoodest ' thou, in deep Mountain Amphitheatre, on umbrageous 'lawns, in thy serene solitude; stately, massive, all of ' granite ; glittering in the western sunbeams, like a palace 15 'of Kl Dorado, overlaid with precious metal. Beautiful 'rose up, in wavy curvature, the slope of thy guardian ' Mills: of the greenest was their sward, embossed with ' iis dark-brown frets of crag, or spotted by some spread- ' ing solitary Tree and its shadow. To the unconscious 1:. ' Wayfarer thou wcrt also as an Ammon's Temple, in the ' Libyan Waste ; where, for joy and woe, the tablet of his 'Destiny lay written. Well might he pause and gaze; ' in that glance of his were prophecy and nameless fore- ' bodings." 25 lUil now let us conjecture.that the so presentient Aus- cullalor has handed-in his Rclatio ex Actis ; been invited to a glass of Rhine-wine ; and so, instead of returning dispirited and athirst to his dusty Town-home, is ushered into the (Jardenhouse, where sit the choicest party of 30 dames and cavaliers : if not engaged in Esthetic Tea, yet in trustful evening conversation, and perhaps Musical Coffee, for we hear of ' harps and pure voices making the stillness live.' Scarcely, it would seem, is the Garden- hous'.' ir.ferior in respectability to the noble Mansion ROMANCE. . 127 itself. ' Embowered amid rich foliage, rose-clusters, and the hues and odours of thousand flowers, here sat that brave company ; in front, from the wide-opened doors, fair outlook over blossom and bush, over grove and velvet green, stretching, undulating onwards to the re- 5 mote Mountain peaks : so bright, so mild, and every- where the melody of birds and happy creatures : it was all as if man had stolen a shelter from the Sun in the bosom-vesture of Summer herself. How came it that the Wanderer advanced thither with such forecasting heart 10 iahndufigsvoll)^ by the side of his gay host? Did he feel that to these soft influences his hard bosom ought to be shut ; that here, once more. Fate had it in view to try him ; to mock him, and see whether there were Humour in him? 15 * Next moment he finds himself presented to the party ; and especially by name to — Blumine ! Peculiar among all dames and damosels, glanced Blumine, there in her modesty, like a star among earthly lights. Noblest maiden ! whom he bent to, in body and in soul ; yet 20 scarcely dared look at, for the presence filled him with painful yet sweetest embarrassment. ' Blumine's was a name well known to him ; far and wide was the fair one heard of, for her gifts, her graces, her caprices : from all which vague colourings of Ru- 25 mour, from the censures no less than from the praises, had our Friend painted for himself a certain imperious Queen of Hearts, and blooming warm Earth-angel, much more enchanting than your mere white Heaven-angels of women, in whose placid veins circulates too little -^o naphtha-fire. Herself also he had seen in public places ; that light, yet so stately form ; those dark tresses, shad- ing a face where smiles and sunlight played over earnest deeps : but all this he had seen only as a magic vision. -s 30 ,g SARTOK KESARTUS. p,r nm. n.u .osiblc, aliiiost without reality.. Her sphere was too far from his ; how should she ever think of him ; O Heaven ! how should they so much as once meet tojjelher? And now that Rose-goddess sits in the same circle with him ; the light of her eyes has smiled on him ; if he speak, she will hear it ! Nay, who knows, since the heavenly Sun looks into lowest valleys, but IMumine herself, might have aforetime noted the so unnotable : perhaps from his very gainsayers, as he had from hers, gathered wonder, gathered favour for him? Was the attraction, the agitation mutual, then ; pole and pole trembling towards contact, when once brought into neighbourhood? Sav rather, heart swelling in presence of the (^ueen of Hearts ; like the Sea swelling when once near its Moon ! With the Wanderer it v^as even so: as in heavenward gravitation, suddenly as at the touch of a Seraph's wand, his whole soul is roused from its deepest recesses ; and all that was painful and that was blissful there, dim images, vague feelings of a whole Past and a whole Future, are heaving in unquiet eddies within him. 'Often, in far less agitating scenes, had our still Friend shrunk forcibly together ; and shrouded-up his tremors and llutterings, of what sort soever, in a safe cover of Silence, and perhaps of seeming Stolidity. How was it, then, that here, when trembling to the core of his heart, he did not sink into swoons, but rose into strength, into fearlessness and clearness ? It was his guiding Genius {Diimon) that inspired him : he -must go forth and meet his Destiny. Show thyself now, whispered it. or be for- ever hid. Thus sometimes it is even when your anxiety beconies transcendental,"that the soul first feels herself ' ■<■ to transcenJTt" ; thaj shejises above It, in fiery '^^^^^- nnd borne on new-found wings of victory, ROMANCE. 1 20 ' moves so calmly, even because so rapidly, so irresistibly. ' Always must the Wanderer remember, with a certain ' satisfaction and surprise, how in this case he sat not ' silent, but struck adroitly into the stream of conversa- ' tion ; which thenceforth, to speak with an apparent not 5 ' a real vanity, he may say that he continued to lead. ' Surely, in those hours, a certain inspiration was im- ' parted him, such inspiration as is still possible in our ' late era. The self-secluded unfolds himself in noble ' thoughts, in free, glowing words ; his soul is as one sea 10 ' of light, the peculiar home of Truth and Intellect ; ' wherein also Fantasy bodies-forth form after form, radi- ' ant with all prismatic hues.' It appears, in this otherwise so happy meeting, there talked one 'Philistine;' who even now, to the general 15 weariness, was dominantly pouring-forth Philistinism (^Philistriositdteti) ; little witting what hero was here en- tering to demolish him ! We omit the series of Socratic, or other Biogenic utterances, not unhappy in their way, whereby the monster, ' persuaded into silence,' seems 20 soon after to have withdrawn for the night, ' Of which ' dialectic marauder,' writes our hero, ' the discomfiture ' was visibly felt as a benefit by most : but what were all ' applauses to the glad smile, threatening every moment ' to become a laugh, wherewith Blumine herself repaid 25 'the victor? He ventured to address her, she answered ' with attention : nay, what if there were a slight tremor ' in that silver voice ; what if the red glow of evening * were hiding a transient blush ! ' The conversation took a higher tone, one fine thought 30 ' called forth another : it was one of those rare seasons, ' when the soul expands with full freedom, and man feels ' himself brought near to man. Gaily in light, graceful ' abandonment, the friendly talk played round that circle ; ,^o saa:tok kesartus. for the burden was rolled from every heart ; t he ba rriers of Ceremony, which are indeed the laws of polite living, had melted as into vapour ; and the poor claims of Me .md T/ue, no longer parted by rigid fences, now flowed softly into one another ; and Life lay all harmonious, many-tinted, like some fc^Tr^oyal champaign7TlTr"5DTer- cij;n and owner of which were Love only. Such music springs from kind hearts, in a kind environment of place and time. And yet as the light grew more aerial !o on the mountain-tops, and the shadows fell longer over the valley, some faint tone of sadness may have breathed through the heart ; and, in whispers more or less audi- ble, reminded every one that as this bright day was drawing towards its close, so likewise must the Day of 15 ' Man's pAistence decline into dusk and darkness ; and with all its sick toilings, and joyful and mournful noises, sink in the still Eternity. ' To our Friend the hours seemed moments ; holy was he and happy : the words from those sweetest lips came over him like dew on thirsty grass ; all better feelings in his soul seemed to whisper, It is good for us to be here. At parting, the Blumine's hand was in his : in the balmy twilight, with the kind stars above them, he spoke something of meeting again, which was not con- tradicted ; he pressed gently those small soft fingers, and it seemed as if they were not hastily, not angrily withdrawn.' Poor Teufclsdrockh ! it is clear to demonstration thou art smit : the Queen of Hearts would see a ' man of '^'^ genius ' also sigh for her ; and there, by art-magic, in that preternatural hour, has she bound and spell-bound thee. ' Love is not altogether a Delirium,' says he else- where ; ' yet has it many points in common therewith. I 'call it rather a discerning of the Infinite in the Finite, of U :')C^^ ROMANCE. . 131 ' t he Idea inaHp -E^jil ; which discerning again may be ' either true or false, either seraphic or demoniac, Inspira- ' tion or Insanity. But in the former case too, as in com- ' mon Madness, it is Fantasy that superadds itself to ' sight ; on the so petty domain of the Actual plants its 5 ' Archimedes-lever, whereby to move at will the infinite ' Spiritual. Fantasy I might call the true Heaven-gate ' and Hell-gate of man : his sensuous life is but the small ' temporary stage {Zeiibulme)^ whereon thick-streaming in- ' fluences from both these far yet near regions meet visi- 10 ' bly, and act tragedy and melodrama. Sense can support 'herself handsomely, in most countries, for some eighteen- ' pence a day ; but for Fantasy planets and solar-systems ' will not suffice. Witness your Pyrrhus conquering the ' world, yet drinking no better red wine than he had be- 15 'fore.' Alas! witness also your Diogenes, flame-clad, scaling the upper Heaven, and verging towards Insanity, for prize of a ' high-souled Brunette,' as if the Earth held but one and not several of these ! He says that, in Town, they met again : ' day after 20 day, like his heart's sun, the blooming Blumine shone on him. Ah ! a little while ago, and he was yet in all darkness : him what Graceful (^Holde) would ever love ? Disbelieving all things, the poor youth had never learned to believe in himself. Withdrawn, in proud timidity, 25 within his own .fastnesses ; solitary from men, yet baited by night-spectres enough, he saw himself, with a sad indignation, constrained to renounce the fairest hopes of existence. And now, O now ! " She looks on thee," cried he ; " she the fairest, noblest ; do not her dark eyes 30 tell thee, thou art not despised? The Heaven's-Mes- senger ! All Heaven's blessings be hers!" Thus did soft melodies flow through his heart ; tones of an infinite gratitude ; sweetest intimations that he also SARTOR RESARTUS. 'was :i man, that for him also unutterable joys had * been provided. •1 free speech, earnest or gay, amid lambent glances, JUcr, tears, and often with the inarticulate mystic .j,.cch of Music ; such was the element they now lived in ; in such a many-tinted, radiant Aurora, and by this fairest of Orient Light-bringers must our Friend be blandished, and the new Apocalypse of Nature unrolled to him. Fairest Blumine ! And, even as a Star, all Fire and humid Softness, a very Light-ray incarnate ! Was there so much as a fault, a "caprice," he could have dispensed with ? Was she not to him in very deed a Morning-Star; did not her presence bring with it airs from Heaven.' As from /Eolian Harps in the breath of dawn, as from the Memnon's Statue struck by the rosy fmger of Aurora, unearthly music was around him, and lapped him into untried balmy Rest. Pale Doubt rted away to the distance ; Life bloomed-up with happi- ness and hope. The past, then, was all a haggard dream ; he had been in the Garden of Eden, then, and could not discern it 1 But lo now ! the black walls of his prison melt away ; the captive is alive, is free/ If he loved his Disenchantress.'' Ach Gott.' His whole heart and soul and life were hers, but never had he named it Love : existence was all a Feeling, not yet shaped into a Thought.' Nevertheless, into a Thought, nay into an Action, it must be shaped ; for neither Disenchanter nor Disen- chantress. mere ' Children of Time,' can abide by Feeling 30 alone. The Professor knows not, to this day, ' how in ' her soft, fervid bosom, the Lovely found determination, ' even on hest of Necessity, to cut-asunder these so ' blissful bonds.' He even appears surprised at the ' Duenna Cousin,' whoever she may have been, ' in whose ROMANCE. m ' meagre, hunger-bitten philosophy, the religion of young 'hearts was, from the first, faintly approved of.' We, even at such distance, can explain it without necromancy. Let the Philosopher answer this one question : What figure, at that period, was a Mrs. Teufelsdrockh likely to 5 make in polished society.'* Could she have driven so much as a brass-bound Gig, or even a simple iron-spring one? Thou foolish ' absolved Auscultator,' before whom lies no prospect of capital, will any yet known ' religion of young hearts' keep the human kitchen warm? Pshaw! 10 thy divine Blumine, when she ' resigned herself to wed some richer,' shows more philosophy, though but 'a woman of genius,' than thou, a pretended man. Our readers have witnessed the origin of this Love- mania, and with what royal splendour it waxes, and rises. 15 Let no one ask us to unfold the glories of its dominant state ; much less the horrors of its almost instantaneous dissolution. How from such inorganic masses, hence- forth madder than ever, as lie in these Bags, can even fragments of a living delineation be organised ? Besides, 20 of what profit were it? We view, with a lively pleasure, the gay silk Montgolfier start from the ground, and shoot upwards, cleaving the liquid deeps, till it dwindle to a luminous star : but what is there to look longer on, when once, by natural elasticity, or accident .of fire, it has ex- 25 ploded ? A hapless air-navigator, plunging, amid torn parachutes, sand-bags, and confused wreck, fast enough into the jaws of the Devil ! SufficeJjLta-knowthat Teu- [" felsdrockh rose into_the highest regions of the Empyrejji, by^anatural parabolic track, an d return ed thence in a quick perpendicular one... For the rest, let any feeling reader, who has been unhappy enough to do the like, paint it out for himself : considering only that if he, for his perhaps comparatively insignificant mistress, under- ... SARTOR RESARTUS. went such agonies and frenzies, what must Teufelsdrockh's have been, with a fire-heart, and for a nonpareil Blumine ! We glance merely at the final scene : ' One morning, he found his Morning-star all dimmed 5 ' and dusky-red ; the fair creature was silent, absent, she ' seemed to have been weeping. Alas, no longer a Morn- ' ing-star, but a troublous skyey Portent, announcing that 'the l)(jomsday had dawned ! She said, in a tremulous ' voice, They were to meet no more.' The thunderstruck lo Air-sailor is not wanting to himself in this dread hour : l)ui what avails it ? We omit the passionate expostula- tions, entreaties, indignations, since all was vain, and not even an explanation was conceded him ; and hasten to the catastrophe. '"Farewell, then, Madam!" said he, 15 'not without sternness, for his stung pride helped him. ' She put her hand in his, she looked in his face, tears ' started to her eyes : in wild audacity he clasped her to 'his bosom; their lips were joined, their two souls, like 'two dew-drops, rushed into one, — for the first time, and o ' for the last ! ' Thus was Teufelsdrockh made immortal by a kiss. And then? Why, then — 'thick curtains of 'Night rushed over his soul, as rose the immeasurable ' Crash of Doom ; and through the ruins as of a shivered ' Universe was he falling, falling, towards the Abyss.' CHAPTER VI. SORROWS OF TEUFELSDROCKH. 25 We have long felt that, with a man like our Professor, matters must often be expected to take a course of their own that in so multiplex, intricate a nature, there might SORROWS OF TEUFELSDROCKH. 135 be channels, both for admitting and emitting, such as the Psychologist had seldom noted ; in short, that on no grand occasion and convulsion, neither in the joy-storm nor in l-he woe-storm, could you predict his demeanour. To our less philosophical readers, for example, it is now 5 clear that the so passionate Teufelsdrockh, precipitated through ' a shivered Universe ' in this extraordinary way, has only one of three things which he can next do : Estab- lish himself in Bedlam^. begin writing Satanic Poetry ; or bl(iwcQuthis brains. In the progress towards any of 10 which consummations, do not such readers anticipate ex- travagance enough; breast-beating, brow-beating (against walls), lion-bellowings of blasphemy and the like, stamp- ings, smitings, breakages of furniture, if not arson itself? Nowise so does Teufelsdrockh deport him. He quietly 15 lifts his Pilgerstab (Pilgrim-staff), * old business being * soon wound-up '; and begins a perambulation and cir- cumambulation of the terraqueous Globe ! Curious it is, indeed, how with such vivacity of co nception, such inten- sity of feeling ; above all, withlthese unconscionable habits 20 of Exaggeration in speech,<;;^ei combines that wonderful stillness of his, that s toicism in external procedure. Thus, ; if his sudden bereavement, in this matter of the Flower- | goddess, is talked of as a real Doomsday and Dissolution • of Nature, in which light doubtless it partly appeared to 2'^ himself, his own nature is nowise dissolved thereby ; but •, rather is compressed closer. For once, as we might say, a Blumine by magic appliances has unlocked that shut heart of his, and its hidden things rush-out tumultuous, boundless, like genii enfranchised from their glass phial\j 30 but no sooner are your magic appliances withdrawn, than! the strange casket of a heart springs-to again ; and pe^ haps there is now no key extant that will open it ; for a Teufelsdrockh, as we remarked, will not love a second (^ SA A'/VA' Kh^AK7'CS. time. Singular Diogenes! No sooner has that heart- rending occurrence fairly taken place, than he affects to regard it as a thing natural, of which there is nothi^*^^ more to be said. 'One highest hope, seemingly legibr in the eyes of an Angel, had recalled him as out of Death-shadows into celestial life : but a gleam of Tophet passed over the face of his Angel ; he was rapt away in whirlwinds, and heard the laughter of Demons. It was a Calenture,' adds he, ' whereby the Youth saw green i'aradise-groves in the waste Ocean-waters: a lying vision, yet not wholly a lie, for /ic saw it/ But what things so- ever passed in him, when he ceased to see it ; what rag- ings and despairings soever Teufelsdrockh's soul was the scene of, he has the goodness to conceal under a quite 15 opaque cover of Silence. We know^ it well ; the first mad paroxvsm past, our brave Gneschen collected his dis- membered philosophies, and buttoned himself together; he was meek, silent, or spoke of the w^eather and the Journals : only by a transient knitting of those shaggy 20 brows, by some deep flash of those eyes, glancing one knew not whether with tear-dew or with fierce fire, — ; might you have guessed what a Gehenna was within ; that a whole Satanic School were spouting, though inaud- iblv, there. To consume vour own choler, as some chim- 25 neys consume their own smoke ; to keep a whole Satanic School spouting, if it must spout, inaudibly, is a nega- tive yet no slight virtue, nor one of the commonest in these times. Nevertheless, we will not take upon us to say, that in 30 the strange measure he fell upon, there was not a touch of latent Insanity; whereof indeed the actual condition of these Documents in Caprkornus and Aquarius is no bad emblem. His so unlimited Wanderings, toilsome en^nn^h. nrr withDut .is^igned or perhaps assignable aim ; SORROWS OF TEUFELSDROCKH. 137 internal Tln rest seems his sole g ^uidan ce ; he wanders, wanders, as if that curse of the Prophet had fallen on /XC^ hirrt, and ne were ~ made like unto a wneel.' Jjoiibtless, too, the chaotic nature of these Paper-bags aggravates our obscurity. Quite without note of preparation, for ex- 5 ample, we come upon the following slip : ' A peculiar feeling it is that will rise in the Traveller, when turning some hill-range in his desert road, he descries lying far below, embosomed among its groves and green natural bulwarks, and all diminished to a toybox, the fair Town, 10 where so many souls, as it were seen and yet unseen, are driving their multifarious traffic. Its white steeple ' is then truly a starward-pointing finger ; the canopy of ' blue smoke seems like a sort of Life-breath : for always, ' of its own unity, the soul gives unity to whatsoever it looks 15 on with love ; thus does the little Dwellingplace of men, in itself a congeries of houses and huts, become for us an individual, almost a person. But what thousand other thoughts unite thereto, if the place has to our- selves been the arena of joyous or mournful experiences ; 20 if perhaps the cradle we were rocked in still stands there, if our Loving ones still dwell there, if our Buried ones there slumber ! ' Does Teufelsdrockh, as the wounded eagle is said to make for its own eyrie, and indeed military deserters, and all hunted outcast creatures, 25 turn as if by instinct in the direction of their birth-land, — fly first, in this extremity, towards his native Entepfuhl ; but reflecting that there no help awaits him, takes but one wistful look from the distance, and then wend else- whither ? 30 Little happier seems to be his next flight : into the wilds of Nature ; as if in her mother-bosom he would seek healing. So at least we incline to interpret the fol- lowing Notice, separated from the former by some 138 SARTOK RESARTUS. (^■^ considerable space, wherein, however, is nothing note- worthy : • Mountains were not new to him : but rarely are Moun- tains seen in such combined majesty and grace as here. Ihc rocks are of that sort called Primitive by the miner- alo«;ists, which always arrange themselves in masses of a rugged, gigantic character ; which ruggedness, how- ever, is here tempered by a singular airiness of form, and softness of environment : in a climate favourable to vegetation, the gray cliff, itself covered with lichens, sh()()ts-up through a garment of foliage or verdure; and white, bright cottages, tree-shaded, cluster round the everlasting granite. In fine vicissitude, Beauty alter- nates with Grandeur : you ride through stony hollows, along strait passes, traversed by torrents, overhung by high walls of rock ; now winding amid broken shaggy chasms, and huge fragments ; now suddenly emerging into some emerald valley, where the streamlet collects itself into a Lake, and man has again found a fair dwell- ing, and it seems as if Peace had established herself in the bosom of Strength. 'To Peace, however, in this vortex of existence, can still less It some Spectre the Son of Time not pretenc haunt liim from the Pas?; and the l^uture is wholly a Stygian darkness^.sp^ectre-bearing. Reasonably might the Wanderer exclaim to himself : Are not the gates of this world's Happiness inexorably shut against thee ; iiast thou a hope that is not mad ? Nevertheless, one may still murmur audibly, or in the original Greek if that suit thee better : " Whoso can look on Death will start at no shadows." ' From such meditations is the Wanderer's attention called outwards; for now the Valley closes-in abruptly, intersected by a huge mountain mass, the stony water- SORROWS OF TEUFELSDROCKH. 130 worn ascent of which is not to be accompHshed on horse- back. Arrived aloft, he finds himself again lifted into the evening sunset light; and cannot but pause, and gaze round him, some moments there. An upland ir- regular expanse of wold, where valleys in complex branch- 5 ings are suddenly or slowly arranging their descent towards every quarter of the sky. The mountain-ranges are beneath your feet, and folded together : only the loftier summits look down here and there as on a second plain ; lakes also lie clear and earnest in their solitude. 10 No trace of man now visible ; unless indeed it were he who fashioned that little visible link of Highway, here, as would seem, scaling the inaccessible, to unite Province with Province. But sunwards, lo you ! how it towers sheer up, a world of Mountains, the diadem and centre 15 of the mountain region ! A hundred and a hundred sav- age peaks, in the last light of Day ; all glowing, of gold and amethyst, like giant spirits of the wilderness ; there in their silence, in their solitude, even as on the night when Noah's Deluge first dried ! Beautiful, nay solemn, 20 was the sudden aspect to our Wanderer. He gazed over those stupendous masses with wonder, almost with longing desire ; never till this hour had he ko nwn Na - t ure, t hat she was One, that she was his Mother and divine. And as the ruddy glow was fading into clear- 25'; ness in the sky, and the Sun had now departed, a mur- mur of Eternity and Immensity, of Death and of Life, stole through his soul ; and he felt as if Death and Life were one, as if the Earth were not dead, as if the Spirit of the Earth had its throne in that splendour, and his 30 own spirit were therewith holding communion. ' The spell was broken by a sound of carriage-wheels^ Emerging from the hidden Northward, to sink soon into^ the hidden Southward, came a gay Barouche-and-four : 140 S.4 KTOh- K/CSA K Ti'S. 'i it was open ; servants and postillions wore wedding- favours : that happy pair, then, had. found each other, it was their marriage evening! Few moments brought them near: />>// Ifimmel ! It jya.$ Herr Towgood and Hlumine! With slight unrecognising salutation thcrrprrssed me ; plunged down amid the neighbouring thickets, onwards, to Heaven, and to England; and I, in my friend Richter's words, / remained alone, behind thnn, 7c wherein is heard only the howling of wild-beasts, or the shrieks of despairing, hate-filled men ; and no Pillar io of Cloud by day. and no Pillar of Fire by night, any longer guides the Pilgrim. To such length has the spirit of Inquiry carried him. ' Put what boots it {ivasthufs) ? ' cries he ; ' it is but the common lot in this era. Not ' having come to spiritual majority prior to the Siecle de \t^' Ixmis Quitizc, and not being born purely a Loghead ' {Dumtnkopf), thou hadst no other outlook. Ttle^^Vtrote ' wor ld is. li_k e_thee. sold to Unbelief; their old Temples '(STth^e (iodhcad. whlcli tor long have not been rainproof, ' crumble down ; and men ask now : Where is the God- 20 ' head ; our eyes never saw him?' Pitiful enough were it, for all these wild utterances, to call our Diogenes wicked. Unprofitable servants as we all are, perhaps at no era of his life was he more deci- sively the Servant of Goodness, the Servant of God, than .•5 even now when doubting God's existence. ' One circum- ' stance I note,' says he: 'after all the nameless woe that ' Inquiry, which for me, what it is not always, was genu- ' ine Love of Truth, had wrought me, I nevertheless still ' ' loved Truth, and would bate no jot of my allegiance to ^ ' her. " Truth ! " I cried, " though the Heavens crush me ' for following her : no Falsehood ! though a whole celes- 'tial Lubberland were the price of Apostasy." In con- ' duct it was the same. Had a divine Messensfer from 'the ciuuds. or miraculous Handwritins: on. the wall, con- THE EVERLASTING NO. 14^ * vincingly proclaimed to me This tJiou shalt do, with what ' passionate readiness, as I often thought, would I have ' done it, had it been leaping into the infernal Fire. ' Thus, in spite of all Mot ive-grinders, and Mechanical ' Prof it^ id-Los s Philosophies, with the sick ophthalmia 5 ' and hallucination theyhaZ brought on, was the Infinit e . j ' nQ<-ij|-p nf T^ijj^y ^\\ \\ dimly present to me : living without (p^^-^ ' God in the world, of God's light I was not utterly be- ' reft ; if my as yet sealed eyes, with their unspeakable 'longing, could nowhere see Him, nevertheless in my 10 ' heart He was present, and His heaven-written Law still ' stood legible and sacred there.' Meanwhile, under all these tribulations, and temporal and spiritual destitutions, what must the Wanderer, in his silent soul, have endured! 'The painfuUest feeling,' 15 writes he, 'is that of your own Feebleness (^Unkraft)\ ever, as the English Milton says, to be weak is the true misery. -And ^yet o f your Strength there is and can be no clear feeling, save by what you have prospered in, by what you have done. Between vague wavering 20 Capability and fixed indubitable Performance, what a difference ! A certain inarticulate Self-consciousness dwells dimly in us ; which only our Works can render articulate and decisively discernible. Our Works are the mirro r wherein the spirit first sees its natura l line a- z^M^ ments. Hence, too, the folly of that impossible Pre-\ Q.^^V^'Knoiu thyself; till it be translated into this par- tially possible one. Know what thou canst work at. ' But for me, so strangely unprosperous had I been, the net-result of mj^JVQJckin^s_ amounted as yet simply 30 to — Nothing. How then could I believe in my Strength, when there was as yet no mirror to see it in ? Ever did this agitating, yet, as I now perceive, quite frivolous question, remain to me insoluble : Hast thou SAATOA' KESAR7VS. a certain Faculty, a certain Worth, such even as the most have not ; or art thou the completest Dullard of these modern times ? Alas ! the fearful Unbelief is un- belief in yourself : and how could I believe ? Had not my first, last Faith in myself, when even to me the Heavens seemed laid open, and I dared to love, been ail-too cruelly belied ? The speculative Mystery of Life jjrcw ever more mysterious to me ; neither in the prac- tical Mystery had I made the slightest progress, but been everywhere buffeted, foiled, and contemptuously rast out. A feeble unit in the middle of a threatening Infinitude, I seemed to have nothing given me but eyes, whereby to discern my own wretchedness. Invisible yet impenetrable walls, as of Enchantment, divided me from all living: was there, in the wide world, any true bosom I could press trustfully to mine ? O Heaven, No. there was none ! I kept a lock upon my lips : why should I speak much with that shifting variety of so- called Friends, in whose withered, vain and too-hungry souls. Friendship was but an incredible tradition ? In such cases, your resource is to talk little, and that little mostly from the Newspapers. Now when I look back, it was a strange isolation I then lived in. The men and women around me, even speaking with me, were but Figures: I had, practically, forgotten that they were alive, that they were not merely automatic. In the midst of their crowded streets, and assemblages, I walked soli- tary : and (except as it was my own heart, not another's, that I kept devouring) savage also, as the tiger in his jungle. Some comfort it would have been, could I, like a Faust, have fancied myself tempted and tormented of the Devil : for a Hell, as I imagine, without Life, though only diabolic Life, were more frightful : but in our age of Down-pulling and Disbelief, the very Devil has been THE EVERLASTING NO. 15 1 * pulled down, you cannot so much as believe in a Devil. ' To me the Universe was all void of Life, of Purpose, of ' Volition, even of Hostility : it was one huge, dead, im- ' measurable Steam-engine, rolling on, in its dead indif- ' ference, to grind me limb from limb. O, the vast 5 ' gloomy, solitary Golgotha, and Mill of Death ! Why ' was the Living banished thither companionless, con- ' scious ? Why, if there is no Devil ; nay, unless the ' Devil is your God ? ' A prey incessantly to such corrosions, might not, more- 10 over, as the worst aggravation to them, the iron constitu- tion even of a Teufelsdrockh threaten to fail ? We con- jecture that he has known sickness ; and, in spite of his locomotive habits, perhaps sickness of the chronic sort. Hear this, for example : ' How beautiful to die of broken- 15 heart, on Paper ! Quite another thing in practice ; every window of your Feeling, even of your Intellect, as it were, begrimed and mud-bespattered, so that no pure ray can enter ; a whole Drugshop in your inwards ; the foredone soul drowning slowly in quagmires of Disgust ! ' 20 Putting all which external and internal miseries to- gether, may we not find in the following sentences, quite in our Professor's still vein, significance enough ? ' From Suicide a certain aftershine {^Nachscheiii) of Christian- ity withheld me : perhaps also a certain indolence of 25 character ; for, was not that a remedy I had at any time within reach ? Often, however, was there a question present to me : Should some one now, at the turning of that corner, blow thee suddenly out of Space, into the other World, or other No-world, by pistol-shot, — how 30 were it ? On which ground, too, I have often, in sea- storms and sieged cities and other death-scenes, exhib- ited an imperturbability, which passed, falsely enough, for courage.' 152 SARTOR RESARTUS. • So had it lasted,' concludes the Wanderer, ' so had it lasted, as in bitter protracted Death-agony, through long years. The heart within me, unvisited by any heavenly dewdrop, was smouldering in sulphurous, slow-consum- ing tire. Almost since earliest memory I had shed no tear ; or once only when I, murmuring half-audibly, re- cited Faust's Deathsong, that wild Selig der den er im Sieges^hnzc findet (Happy whom he finds in Battle's splendour), and thought that of this last Friend even I was not forsaken, that Destiny itself could not doom me not to die. Having no hope, neither had I any definite fear, were it of Man or of Devil : nay, I often felt as if might be solacing, could the Arch-Devil himself, though in Tartarean terrors, but rise to me, that I might tell him a little of my mind. And yet, strangely enough, I lived in a continual, indefinite, pining fear ; tremulous, pusillanimous, apprehensive of I knew not what : it seemed as if all things in the Heavens above and the Earth beneath would hurt me ; as if the Heavens and the Earth -were but boundless jaws of a devouring monster, wherein I, palpitating, waited to be devoured. ' Full of such humour, and perhaps the miserablest man in the whole French Capital or Suburbs, was I, one sultry Dog-day, after much perambulation, toiling along the dirty little Rue Saint-Thomas de V Enfe}\ among civic rub- bish enough, in a close atmosphere, and over pavements hot as Nebuchadnezzar's Furnace ; whereby doubtless my si)irii.s were little cheered ; when, all at once, there rose a Thought in me, and I asked myself : " ^\VhaJ> iyt thou jiix^wrToF? Wherefore, like a coward, dost thou for ever pip and whimper, and go cowering and trem- bling ? Despicable biped! what is the sum-total of the worst that lies before thee ? Death ? Well, Death ; THE EVERLASTWG NO, H% ' and say the pangs of Tophet too, and all that the Devil and Man may, will, or can do against thee ! Hast thou not a heart ; canst thou not suffer whatsoever it be ; and, as a Child of Freedom, though outcast, trample Tophet itself under thy feet, w^hile it consumes thee? Let it co me, then ; I will mjeeMt_and.^efyLiLiJl And as I so thought, there rushed like a stream of fire over my whole soul ; and I shoo k base Fear away from me forever. I was strong, of unknown strength ; a spirit, almost a god. Ever from that time, the temper of my lo misery was changed : not Fear or whining Sorrow was it, but Indignation and grim fire-eyed Defiance. ' Thus had the Everlasting No {das ewige Nehi) pealed authoj'itatively through all the recesses of my Being, of my Me; and then was it that my whole Me 15 stood up, in native God-created majesty, and with em- phasis recorded its Protest. Such a Protest, the most important transaction in Life, may that same Indigna- tion and Defiance, in a psychological point of view, be fitly called. The Everlasting No had said : *' Behold, 20 thou art fatherless, outcast, and the Universe is mine (the Devil's) ;" to which my whole Me now made answer : '* / am not thine, but Free, and forever hate thee ! " ' It is from this hour that I incline to date my Spiritual 25 New-birth, or Baphometic Fire-baptism ; perhaps I di- rectly thereupon began to be a Man.' ,-, SAKTOK KESARTCS. *:)4 CHAPTER VIII. CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE. Tn<>r..n, after this ' Baphometic f^ire-baptism ' of his, our Wanderer si^^nifies that his Unrest was but increased ; as, indeed, ' Indignation and Defiance,' especially against things in general, are not the most peaceable inmates ; 5 yet can the Psychologist surmise that it was no longer a «^ quite hopeless Unrest; that henceforth it had at least a fixed centre to revolve round. For the fire-baptised soul, long so scathed and thunder-riven, here feels its own Freedom, which feeling is its Baphometic Baptism : the lo citadel of its whole kingdom it has thus gaii^ed by assault ; and will keep inexpugnable ; outwards from which the rem;iining dominions, not indeed without hard battling, will doubtless by degrees be conquered and pacificated. / Under another figure, we might say, if in that great 15 moment, in the J\itc Saint-Thomas de rEufer, the old inward Satanic Sc hool j yas not yet thrown out of doors. it received pe rempt o ry judic i al notice to quit ; — whereby, for the rest, its iiowl-chantings, Ernulphus-cursings, and rebellious gnashings of teeth, might, in the mean while, 20 become only the more tumultuous, and difficult to keep secret. Accordingly, if we scrutinise these Pilgrimings well, there is perhaps discernible henceforth a certain in- cij)ient method in their madness. Not wholly as a 25 Spectre does Teufelsdrockh now storm through the world ; at worst as a spectre-fighting Man, nay who will one day be a Spectre-queller. If pilgriming rest- lessly to so many 'Saints' Wells,' and ever without quenching of his thirst, he nevertheless finds little secu- 30 lar wells, whereby from time to time some alleviation is CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE. jr^ ministered. In a word, he is now, if not ceasing, yet intermitting to ' eat his own heart ;' and clutches round him outwardly on the Not-me for wholesomer food. Does not the following glimpse exhibit him in a much more natural state ? 5 ' Towns also and Cities, especially the ancient, I failed not to look upon with interest. How beautiful to see thereby, as through a long vista, into the remote Time /-^-^^^-c to have, as if^ere, an actual section of almost the earli- r^ est Past brought safe into the Present, and set before 10 your eyes ! There, in that old City, was a live ember of Culinary Fire put down, say only two-thousand years ago ; and there, burning more or less triumphantly, with such fuel as the region yielded, it has burnt, and still burns, and thou thyself seest the very smoke thereof. 15 Ah ! and the far more mysterious live ember of Vital Fire was then also put down there ; and still miracu- lously burns and spreads ; and the smoke and ashes thereof (in these Judgment-Halls and Churchyards), and its bellows-engines (in these Churches), thou still seest ; 20 and its flame, looking out from every kind countenance, and every hateful one, still warms thee or scorches thee. ' Of Man's Activity and Attainment the chief results are aeriform, mystic, and preserved in (Tradijtioh only :/*P« such are his Forms of Governme nt, withthe AiitK ority 25 theyT eit on ; his Customs, or Fashions both of Cloth- Habits and of Soul-habits ; much more his collective stock of Handicrafts, the whole Faculty he has acquired of manipulating Nature : all these things, as indispens- able and priceless as they are, cannot in any way be 30 fixed under lock and key, but must flit, spirit-like, on impalpable vehicles, from Father to Son ; if you demand sight of them, they are nowhere to be met with. Visible Ploughmen and Hammermen there have been, ever from *^-ias. '5^ S Ah' TOR RESARTUS. Cain and Tiibalcain downwards : but where does your accunuilatcd Agricultural, Metallurgic, and other Manu- facturing Skill, lie warehoused? It transmits itself on the atmospheric air, on the sun's rays (by Hearing and Vision); it i> a thing aeriform, impalpable, of quite spiritual sort. In like manner, ask me not, Where are ihc Laws; where is the Government? In vain wilt thou go to Schonbrunn, to Downing Street, to the Palais Bourbon : thou tindest nothing there, but brick or stone houses, and some bundles of Papers tied with tape. Where, then, is that same cunningly-devised almighty (JovKKNMENr of theirs to be laid hands on? Every- where, yet nowhere : seen only in its works, this too is .1 thing aeriform, invisible ; or if you will, mystic and miraculous. So spiritual {gcistig) is our whole daily Life : njl |hnt we dp springs out of Mystery, Spiri t, in- visible I'orce ; only like a little Cloud-image, or Armida's i^lTace, air^juilt, does the Actual body itself forth from the great mystic Deep. ' \'isible and tangible products of the Past, again, I reckon-up to the extent of three : Cities, with their Cabinets and .Arsenals ; then tilled Fields, to either or to i)oth of which divisions Roads— ¥>jth their Bridges may belong ; and thirdly i^^oks^ In w'hich third truly, the last-invented, lies a worth f Ar surpassing that of the two others. Wondrous indeea is the virtue of a true I^)ok. Not like a dead city oi stones, yearly crumbling, yearly needing repair; more l/ke a tilled field, but then a spiritual field : like a spiritual tree, let me rather say, i t stands from year to vear , and trom age^L o.. age (we have Hooks that already number some hundred-and-fifty human ages) ; and yearly comes its new produce of leaves (Commentaries, Deductions, Philosophical, Politi- cal Systems ; or were it only Sermons, Pamphlets, Jour- -? ^ CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE. 157 nalistic Essays), every one of which is tahsmanic and thaumaturgic, for it can persuade men, O thou who art able to write a Book, whic h once in the two centuri es or oftgnerlhere is a man gifted to do, envy not him whom they name City-builder, and inexpressibly pity him whom 5i they name Conqueror or City-burner ! Thou too art a Conqueror and Victor ; but of the true sort, namely over the Devil : thou too hast built what will outlast all marble and metal, and be a wonder-bringing City of the Mind, a Temple and Seminary and Prophetic Mount, whereto 10 all kindreds of the Earth will pilgrim. — Fool ! why journeyest thou wearisomely, in thy antiquarian fervour, to gaze on the stone pyramids of Geeza or the clay ones of Sacchara ? These stand there, as I can tell thee, idle and inert, looking over the Desert, foolishly enough, 15 for the last three-thousand years : but canst thou not open thy Hebrew Bible, then, or even Luther's Version thereof ? ' No less satisfactory is his sudden appearance not in Battle, yet on some Battle-field ; which, we soon gather, 20 must be that of Wagram : so that here, for once, is a certain approximation to distinctness of date. Omitting much, let us impart what follows : ' Horrible enough ! A whole Marchfeld strewed with ' shell-splinters, cannon-shot, ruined tumbrils, and dead 25 ' men and horses ; stragglers still remaining not so much ' as buried. And those red mould heaps : ay, there lie ' the Shells of Men, out of which all the Life and Virtue ' has been blown ; and now they are swept together, and ' crammed-down out of sight, like blown Egg-shells ! — 30 ' Did Nature, when she bade the Donau bring down his ' mould-cargoes from the Carinthian and Carpathian ' Heights, and spread them out here into the softest, 'richest level, — intend thee, O Marchfeld, for a corn- »5 sS SAKTOR RESARTCS. bearing Nursery, whereon her children might be nursed ; or for a Cockpit, wherein they might the more commodiously be throttled and tattered? Were thy three broad highways, meeting here from the ends of Kurope, made for Ammunition-wagons, then? Were thy Wagrams and Stillfrieds but so many ready-built Case- mates, wherein the house of Hapsburg might batter with artillery, and with artillery be battered ? Konig Ottokar, amid yonder hillocks, dies under Rodolf 's truncheon ; here Kaiser Franz falls a-swoon under Napoleon's : within which five centuries, to omit the others, how hast thy breast, fair Plain, been defaced and defiled ! The greensward is torn-up and trampled-down ; man's fond care of it, his fruit-trees, hedge-rows, and pleasant dwellings, blown-away with gunpowder; and the kind seedfield lies a desolate, hideous Place of Sculls. — Nevertheless, Nature is at work ; neither shall these Powder-Devilkins with their utmost devilry gainsay her : but all that gore and carnage will be shrouded-in, ab- sorbed into manure ; and next year the Marchfeld will be green, nay greener. Thrifty unwearied Nature, ever out of our great waste educing some little profit of thy own, — how dos t thou, from the very carcass of the Kj|kM\jDri ng Life" for thff ^^^^-Jp^^ ' What, speaking in quite unofficial language, is the net- purport and upshot of war? To my own knowledge, for example, there dwell and toil, in the British village of Dumdrudge, usually some five-hundred souls. From these, by certain " Natural Enemies " of the French, there are successively selected, during the French war, say thirty able-bodied men : Dumdrudge, at her own expense, has suckled and nursed them ; she has, not without difficulty and sorrow, fed them up to manhood, and even trained them to crafts, so that one can weave, another build, CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE. irg \ another hammer, and the weakest can stand under thirty '\ stone avoirdupois. Nevertheless, amid much weeping \ and swearing, they are selected ; all dressed in red ; and shipped away, at the public charges, some two-thousand miles, or say only to the south of Spain ; and fed there 5 till wanted. And now to that same spot in the south of Spain, are thirty similar French artisans, from a French Dumdrudge, in like manner wending : till at length, after infinite effort, the two parties come into actual jux- taposition ; and Thirty stands fronting Thirty, each with 10 a gun in his hand. Straightway the word " Fire ! " is given : and they blow the souls out of one another ; and in place of sixty brisk useful craftsmen, the world has sixty dead carcasses, which it must bury, and anew shed tears for. Had these men any quarrel? Busy as the 15 Devil is, not the smallest ! They lived far enough apart ; were the entirest strangers ; nay, in so wide a Universe, there was even unconsciously, by Commerce, some mutual helpfulness between them. How then ? Simpleton ! their Goveraors had fallen-out ; and, instead of shooting 20 one another, had the cunning to make these poor block- heads shoot. — Alas, so is it in Deutschland, and hith- erto in all other lands; still as of old, "what devilry soever Kings do, the Greeks must pay the piper ! " — In that fiction of the English Smollett, it is true, the final 25 Cessation of War is perhaps prophetically shadowed forth ; where the two Natural Enemies, in person, take each a Tobacco-pipe, filled with Brimstone ; light the same, and smoke in one another's faces till the weaker gives in : but from such predicted Peace-Era, what 30 blood-filled trenches, and contentious centuries, may still divide us ! ' Thus can the Professor, at least in lucid intervalgHoo^ away from his own sorrows, ^ver the many-coloured j^Q SARTOR RESARTUS. ^^..nu, aitd pcrlincntly enough note what is passing there. ^ We m:iy remark, indeed, that for the matter of spiritual culture, if for nothing else, perhaps few periods of his life were richer than this. Internally, there is the most ; momentous instructive Course of Practical Philosophy, with Kxperiments, going on ; towards the right compre- hension of which iiis Peripatetic habits, favourable to Meditation, might help him rather than hinder. Exter- nally, again, as he wanders to and fro, there are, if for lo the longing heart little substance, yet for the seeing eye sights enough : in these so boundless Travels of his, granting that the Satanic School was even partially kept down, what an incredible knowledge of our Planet, and its Inhabitants and their Works, that is to say, of all 15 knowable things, might not Teufelsdrockh acquire! ' I have read in most Public Libraries,' says he, ' in- ' eluding those of Constantinople and Samarcand : in ' most Colleges, except the Chinese Mandarin ones, I ' have studied, or seen that there was no studying. Un- 20 ' known languages have I oftenest gathered from their ' natural repertory, the Air, by my organ of Hearing ; ' Statistics, (Geographies, Topographies came, through the ' Kye, almost of their own accord. The ways of Man, ' how he seeks food, and warmth, and protection for him- -'5 'self, in most regions, are ocularly known to me. Like 'the great Hadrian, I meted-out much of the terraqueous ' (ilobe with a pair of Compasses that belonged to myself ' only. 'Of great Scenes, why speak .^ Three summer days, :,o ' I lingered reflecting, and composing {liichtete), by the ' Pine-chasms of Vaucluse ; and in that clear lakelet ' moistened my bread. I have sat under the Palm-trees ' of Tadmor ; smoked a pipe among the ruins of Babylon. 'The great Wall of China I have seen; and can testify CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE. i6i that- it is of grey brick, coped and covered with granite, and shews only second-rate masonry. — Great events, also, have not I witnessed? Kings sweated-down {aus- gefnergelt) into BerUn-and-Milan Customhouse-Officers ; the World well won, and the World well lost ; oftener 5 than once a hundred-thousand individuals shot (by each other) in one day. All kindreds and peoples and na- tions dashed together, and shifted and shovelled into heaps, that they might ferment there, and in time unite. The birth-pangs of Democracy, wherewith convulsed ic Europe was groaning in cries that reached Heaven, could not escape me. i ' For great Men I have ever had the warmest predilec- tion ; and can perhaps boast that few such in this era have wholly escaped me. Great Men are the inspired 15 (speaking and acting) Texts of that divine Book of Revelations, whereof a Chapter is completed from ! I epoch to epoch, and by some named History ; to which ; | inspired Texts your numerous talented men, and your Ij innumerable untalented men, are the better or worse 26 exegetic Commentaries, and wagonload of too-stupid, heretical or orthodox, weekly Sermons. _For my study, the inspired Texts themselves ! Thus did not I, in very earl}r"days, having disguised iioe^as a tavern-waiter, stand behind the field-chairs, under that shady Tree at 25 Treisnitz by the Jena Highway ; waiting upon the great Schiller and greater Goethe ; and hearing what I have not forgotten. For ' But at this point the Editor recalls his principle of caution, some time ago laid down, and must suppress much. Let not the sacredness of Laurelled, still more, of Crowned Heads, be tampered with. Should we, at a future day, find circumstances altered, and the time come for Publication, then may these glimpses into the privacy j^, SARTOR RESARTUS. of the Illustrious be conceded; which for the present were little better than treacherous, perhaps traitorous h:;ivesdruppings. Of Lord Byron, therefore, of Pope Pius, Kinperor 'I'arakwang, and the 'White Water-roses' 5 (Chinese Carbonari) with their mysteries, no notice here ! Of Napoleon himself we shall only, glancing from afar, remark that Teufelsdrockh's relation to him seems to have been of very varied character. At first we find our poor Professor on the point of being shot as a spy ; then 10 taken into private conversation, even pinched on the ear, yet presented with no money ; at last indignantly dis- missed, almost thrown out of doors, as an ' Ideojog^ist.' He himself,' says the Professor, 'was among the com- pletest Ideologists, at least Ideopraxists : in the Idea (/>/ iter Idci') he lived, moved and fought. The man was a Divine Missionary, though unconscious of it; and preached, through the cannon's throat, that great doctrine, J. a carrihc ouvcrtc aux talcjis (The Tools to him that can handle them), which is our ultimate Politi- co cal Evangel, wherein alone can Liberty lie. Madly enough he preached, it is true, as Enthusiasts and first Missionaries are wont, with imperfect utterance, amid much frothy rant ; yet as articulately perhaps as the case admitted. Or call him^ if you will, an American Backwoodsman, who had to fell unpenetrated forests, and battle with innumerable wolves, and did not entirely forbear strong liquor, rioting, and even theft ; whom, notwithstanding, the peaceful Sower will follow, and, as he cu ts the boundless harvest, bless.' 30/ More legitimate and decisively authentic is Teufels- drockh's appearance and emergence (we know not well whence) in the solitude of the North Cape, on that June Midnight. He has a 'light-blue Spanish cloak' hanging round him. as his 'most commodious, principal, indeed CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE. 163 sole upper-garment ;' and stands there, on the World- promontory, looking over the infinite Brine, like a little blue Belfry (as we figure), now motionless indeed, yet ready, if stirred, to ring quaintest changes. ' Silence as of death,' writes he ; 'for Midnight, even in 5 the Arctic latitudes, has its character : nothing but the granite cliffs ruddy-tinged, the peaceable gurgle of that slow-heaving Polar Ocean, over which in the utmost North the great Sun hangs low and lazy, as if he too were slumbering. Yet is his cloud-couch wrought of 10 crimson and cloth-of-gold ; yet does his light stream over the mirror of waters, like a tremulous fire-pillar, shoot- ing downwards to the abyss, and hide itself under my feet. In such moments. Solitude also is invaluable ; for who would speak, or be looked on, when behind 15 him lies all Europe and Africa, fast asleep, except the watchmen ; and before him the silent Immensity, and Palace of the Eternal, whereof our Sun is but a porch-j lamp ? ' Nevertheless, in this solemn moment, comes a man, 20 or monster, scrambling from among the rock-hollows ; and, shaggy, huge as the Hyperborean Bear, hails me in Russian speech: most probably, therefore, a Russian Smuggler. With courteous brevity, I signify my indif- ference to contraband trade, my humane intentions, yet 25 strong wish to be private. In vain: the monster, count- ing doubtless on his superior stature, and minded to make sport for himself, or perhaps profit, were it with murder, continues to advance ; ever assailing me with his importunate train-oil breath ; and now has advanced, 3° till we stand both on the verge of the rock, the deep Sea rippling greedily down below. What argument will avail ? On the thick Hyperborean, cherubic reasoning, seraphic eloquence were lost. Prepared for such ex- ncca r i 'Sucl iJ'lhat it cicvcrc j^,^ SARTOR RESARTUS. 'tremity, I, deftly enough, whisk aside one step; draw 'out, from my interior reservoirs, a sufficient Birmingham ' Morse-pistol, and say, " Be so obliging as retire. Friend • (/:> zi€he sich znrikk, Frciind). and with promptitude ! " 'This logic even the Hyperborean understands : fast ' enough, with apologetic, petitionary growl, he sidles off ; ' and, except for suicidal as well as homicidal purposes, ' need not return. •h I hold to be the genuine use of Gunpow^der : makes all men alike tall. Nay, if thou be cooler, rrer than I, if thou have more Mind, though all but ' no Body whatever, then canst thou kill me first, and art 'the taller. Hereby, at last, is the Goliath powerless, 'and the David resistless: savage Animalism is nothing, 15 'inventive Spiritualism is all. * With respect to Duels, indeed, I have my own ideas. ' Few things, in this so surprising world, strike me with ' more surprise. Two little visual Spectra of men, hover- ' ing with insecure enough cohesion in the midst of the ;o ' L'.N'FArHO.MARLE, and to dissolve therein, at any rate, ' very soon, — make pause at the distance of twelve paces 'asunder; whirl round; and, simultaneously by the cun- ' ningest mechanism, explode one another into Dissolu- ' tion ; and off-hand become Air, and Xon-extant I Deuce .15 'on it {verdammi), the little spitfires! — Nay. I think with 'old Hugo von Trimberg: "God must needs laugh out- ' ri.i;ht, could such a thing be, to see his wondrous Mani- ' kins here below." ' Hut amid these specialties, let us not forget the great ;o generality, which is our chief quest here: How prospered- the inner man of Teufelsdrockh under so much outward shifting.? Does Legion still lurk in him, though re- pressed; or has he exorcised that Devil's Brood? We CENl'RE OF INDIFFERENCE, 165 can answer that the symptoms continue promising. Ex- perience is the grand spiritual Doctor ; and_ jatith him cXo-^^ Teufeisdrockh has now been long a patient, swallowing many a bitter bolus. Unless our poor Friend belong to the numerous class of Incurables, which seems not likely, 5 some cure will doubtless be effected. We should rather say that Legion, or the Satanic School, was now pretty well extirpated and cast out, but next to nothing intro- duced in its room ; whereby the heart remains, for the while, in a q uiet but no c omfortable state. 10 ' At length, after so much roasting,' thus writes our Autobiographer, ' I was what you might name calcined. Pray only that it be not rather, as is the more frequent issue, reduced to a capiit-mortiium ! But in any case, by mere dint of practice, I had grown familiar with 15 many things. Wretchedness was still wretched; but ^ /fjo^ could now partly see tnrough it, and despise it: — -Which /^Q: higliest mortal, m this marre~Exrsteftc^, had I not found a Shadow-hunter, or Shadow-hunted ; and, when I looked through his brave garnitures, miserable enough ? Thy 20 wishes have all been sniffed aside, thought I : but what, had they even been all granted ! Did not the Boy Alexander weep because he had not two Planets to conquer ; or a whole Solar System ; or after that, a whole Universe ? Ach Go ft, when I gazed into these 25 Stars, have they not looked-down on me as if with pity, from their serene spaces ; like Eyes glistening with ^ heavenly tears over the little lot of man! Thousands ^ ,. of human generations, all as noisy 'as our own, Tiave been \r swallowed-up of Time," and "there remains no wreck ef 3c n Ajv them a nyHnorel lind Arcturus and Orion and Sirius and (T \ the~Pteiades are still shining in their courses, clear and young, as when the Shepherd first noted them in the plain of Shinar. Pshaw ! what is this paltry little Dog- V^ ,^6 SARTOR RESARTUS. 'cage of an Earth; what art thou that sittest whining • there ? Thou art still Nothing, Nobody : true ; but who, •then, is Something, Somebody? For thee the Family of 'Man has no use; it rejects thee; thou art wholly as a ' dissevered limb : so be it ; perhaps it is better so ! ' Too-heavy-laden Teufelsdrockh ? Yet surely his bands are loosening ; one day he will hurl the burden far from him, and bound forth free and with a second youth. 'This,' says our Professor, 'was the Centre of Indif- ■ KKRKNCE I had now reached ; through which whoso 'travels from the Negative Pole to the Positive must 'necessarily pass.' JO 'D CHAPTER IX. THE EVERLASTING YEA. 'Temptations in the Wilderness !' exclaims Teufels- drockh: 'Have we not all to be tried with such? Not ' so easily can the old Adam, lodged in us by birth, be 'dispossessed. Our Life is compassed round with Neces- 'sity; yet is the meaning of Life itself no other than ' Freedom, than Voluntary Force : thus have we a war- 'f.ire; in the beginning, especially, a hard-fought battle. ' I'or the (iod-given mandate, Work thou in Welldoings lies ' mysteriously written, in Promethean Prophetic Charac- ' tors, in our hearts ; and leaves us no rest, night or day, 'till it be deciphered and obeyed; till it burn forth, in 'our conduct, a visible, acted Gospel of Freedom. And ' as the clay-given mandate, Eat thou and be filled^ at the ' same time persuasively proclaims itself through every ' nerve, — must there not be a con fusion , a contest, before ' tlnrbette^-luEu^nce canT)ecome the upper? THE EVERLASTING YEA. 167 *To me nothing seems more natural than that the Son of Man, when such God-given mandate first prophetically stirs within him, and the Clay must now be vanquished or vanquish, — should be carried of the spirit into grim Solitudes, and there fronting the Tempter do grimmest 5 battle with him ; defiantly setting him at naught, till he yield and fly. Name it as we choose : with or without visible Devil, whether in the natural Desert of rocks and sands, or in the populous moral Desert of selfishness and baseness, — to such Tem^jjiUefl are we all called. 10 Unhappy if we are not ! Unhappy if we are but Half-; men, in whomTEat divine handwriting has never blazed\ forth, all-subduing, in true sun-splendour; but quivers dubiously amid meaner lights : or smoulders, in dull pain, in darkness, under earthly vapours ! — Our Wilder- 15 ness is the wide World in an Atheistic Century; our Forty Days are long years of suffering and fasting : nevertheless, to these also comes an end. Yes, to me also was given, if not Victory, yet the consciousness of Battle, and the resolve to persevere therein while life or 20 faculty is left. To me also, entangled in the enchanted forests, demon-peopled, doleful of sight and of sound, it was given, after weariest wanderings, to work out my way into the higher sunlit slopes — of that Mountain which has no summit, or whose summit is in Heaven 25 only ! ' He says elsewhere, under a less ambitious figure ; as figures are, once for all, natural to him : ' Has not thy ' Life "been that of most sufficient men {tiichtigen Manner) 'thou hast known in this generation? An outflush of 30 * foolish young Enthusiasm, like the first fallow-crop, ' wherein are as many weeds as valuable herbs : this all ' parched away, under the Droughts of practical and ' spiritual Unbelief, as Disappointment, in thought and y j(,sj SARTOR RESARTUS. ' act, often-repeated gave rise to Doubt, and Doubt gradu- 'ally settled into Denial! If 1 have had a second-crop, ' and now see the perennial greensward, and sit under ' umbrageous cedars, which defy all Drought (and Doubt ) ; 5 ' herein too, be the Heavens praised, I am not without 'examples, and even exemplars.' So that, for Teufelsdrockh also, there has been a ' glori- ous revolution : ' these mad shadow-hunting and shadow- hunted Pil<;rimin o->; nf his were but some purify ing ' Temp- lo tation in the Wilderness,' before his apostolic work (such as it was) could begin ; which Temptation is now^ happily over, and the Devil once more worsted! Was ' that high moment in the Rue deV Enfcr' then, properly the turning- point of the battle ; when the Fiend said, Worship me, oi- \i5 be torn in shreds; and was answered valiantly with an /'Apdi^e Satana / — Singular__Teu felsdrockh. wo uld thou ( had St told thv sinnTiTar st ory '" \^-:\\r\ words ! But it is ^ \ ^Jruitless to look there, in those Paper-bags, for such. ^r' "^Nothing but innuendoes, figurative crotchets : a typical -'o CShadow, fitfully wavering, prophetico-satiric ; no clear ^logical Picture. ' How paint to the sensual eyeT asks he once, * what passes in the Holy-of-Holies of Man's ' Soul ; in what words, known to these profane times, ' speak even afar-off of the unspeakable ? ' We ask in ^5 turn : Why perplex these times, profane as they are, with needless obscurity, by omission and by commission ? Not mystical only is our Professor, but whimsical ; and involves himself, now more than ever, in eye-bewildering chiaroscuro. Successive glimpses, here faithfully imparted, 30 our more gifted readers must endeavour to combine for their own behoof. He says : 'The hot Harmattan wind had raged itself ' out ; its howl w ent silent within me ; and the long- ' deafened soul could now hear. I paused in my wild THE EVERLASTING YEA. 169 wanderings ; and sat me down to wait, and consider ; for it was as if the hour of change drew nigh. I seemed to surrender, to renounce utterly, and say : Fly, then, false shadows of Hope ; I will chase you no more, I will believe you no more. And ye too, haggard spectres of 5 Fear, I care not for you ; ye too are all shadows and a lie. Let me rest here : for I am way-weary and life- weary ; I will rest here, were it but to die : to die or to live i s al ike to me; alike insignificant.' — And again: Here, then, as I lay in that Centre of Indifference ; 10 cast, doubtless by benignant upper Influence, into a healing sleep, the heavy dreams rolled gradually away, and I awoke to a new Heaven and a new Earth. The first preliminary moral Act, Annihilation of Self {Se/bsf- tddtimg\ had been happily accomplished; and my 15 mind's eyes were now unsealed, and its hands ungyved.' Might we not also conjecture that the follow^ing pas- sage refers to his Locality, during this same ' healing sleep;' that his Pilgrim-staff lies cast aside here, on ' the high table-land;' and indeed that the repose is already 20 t iking wholesome effect on him? If it were not that the tone, in some parts, has more of riancy, even of levity, thin we could have expected ! Haweveiv-wV" -^'*^1'^' drockh, there is always., tlie strangest Duali^ni : light dancing, with guitar-music, will be going on m the fore- 25 court, while by fits from within comes the faint whimper- ing of woe and wail. We transcribe the piece entire : ' Beautiful it was to sit there, as in my skyey Tent, musing and meditating ; on the high table-land, in front of the Mountains ; over me, as roof, the azure Dome, 30 and around me, for w^alls, four azure-flowing curtains, — namely, of the Four azure Winds, on whose bottom- fringes also I have seen gilding. And then to fancy the fair Castles, that stood sheltered in these Mountain 20 SAKTOR J^ESAJ^TUS. ■ h..un^^.^ . with their green Hower-lawns, and white dames • and damosels, lovely enough : or better still, the straw- ' roofed Cottages, wherein stood many a Mother baking 'bread, with her children round her: — all hidden and •protectingly folded-up in the valley-folds; yet there and • alive, as sure as if 1 beheld them. Or to see, as well as ' fancy, the nine Towns and Villages, that lay round my 'mountain-seat, which, in still weather, were wont to •speak to me (by their steeple-bells) with metal tongue ; :ul. in almost all weather, proclaimed their vitality by ■ repeated Smoke-clouds ; whereon, as on a culinary horo- lo-nie I miiiht read the hour of the day. For it was the smoke of cookery, as kind housewives at morning, mid- day, eventide, were boiling their husbands' kettles ; and ever a blue pillar rose up into the air, successively or simultaneously, from each of the nine, saying, as plainly as smoke could say : Such and such a meal is getting ready here. Not uninteresting ! For you have the whole IJorough, with all its love-makings and scandal- mongeries, contentions and contentments, as in minia- ture, and could cover it all with your hat. — If, in my wide Wayfarings, I had learned to look into the business of the World in its details, here perhaps was the place for combining it into general propositions, and deducing infeiences therefrom. 'Often also could I see the black Tempest marching in anger through the distance : round some Schreck- horn, as yet grim-blue, would the eddying vapour gather, and there tumultuously eddy, and flow down like a mad witch's hair ; till, after a space, it vanished, and, in the clear sunbeam, your Schreckhorn stood smiling grim- white, for the vapour had held snow. How thou fer- mentest and elaboratest in thy great -fermenting-vat and laboratory of an Atmosphere, of a World, O Nature ! — THE EVERLASTING YEA. 171 Or wh at is Na ture ? Ha ! why do I not name thee God ? Art tHou noTthe "^^j^ing ^arment of God"? O Heav- ens, is it, in very deed, He, then, that ever speaks through thee ; that lives and loves in thee, that lives and loves in me ? 5 ' Fore-shadows, call them rather fore-splendours, of that Truth, and Beginning of Truths, fell mysteriously over my soul. Sweeter than Dayspring to the Shipwrecked in Nova Zembla ; ah, like the mother's voice to her little child that strays bewildered, weeping, in unknown 10 tumults ; like soft streamings of celestial music to my too-exasperated heart, came that Evangel. The Uni- verse is not dead and demoniacal, a charnel-house with spectres; but godlike^ and my Father's ! ' With other eyes, too, could I now look upon my fellow 15 man : with an infinite Love, an infinite Pity. Poor, wandering, wayward man ! Art thou not tried, and beaten with stripes, even as I am ? Ever, whether thou bear the royal mantle or the beggar's gabardine, art thou not so weary, so heavy-laden ; and thy Bed of Rest is 20 but a Grave. O my Brother, my Brother^ why cannot I shelter thee in my bosom, and wipe away all tears from thy eyes ! — Truly, the din of many-voiced Life, which, in this solitude, with the mind's organ, I could hear, was no longer a maddening discord, but a melting one ; 25 like inarticulate cries, and sobbings of a dumb creature, which in the ear of Heaven are prayers. The poor Earth, with her poor joys, was now my needy Mother, not my cruel Stepdame ; Man, with his so mad Wants - and so mean Endeavours, had become the dearer to me ; 30 and even for his sufferings and his sins, I now first named him Brother. Thus was I standing in the porch of that " Sanctuary of Sofjvwj^ ' by strange, steep ways, had I too been guided thither ; and ere long its sacred lO JO -:> .0 SAK'/VR A'ESART[\S. •gates would open, and \\\c" Divine Viff/i of Sorrow'' lie ' disclosed to inc.' The Professor says, he here first got eye on the Knot that had been strangling him, and straightway could un- fasten it. and was free. 'A vain interminable contro- verhv.' writes he, ' touching what is at present called Origin of Kvil. or some such thing, arises in every soul, since the beginning of the world : and in every soul, that would pass from idle Suffering into actual Endeav- ouring, must first be put an end to. The most, in our lime, have to go content with a simple, incomplete enough Suppression of this controversy ; to a few, sorrie Solution of it is indispensable. In every new era, too, such Solution comes-out in different terms ; and ever the Solution of the last '-ra has become obsolete, and is found unserviceable. For it is man's nature to change his Dialect from century to century; he cannot help it though he would. The authentic Church- Catechism of our present century has not yet fallen into my hands : meanwhile, for my own private behoof, I attempt to elucidate the matter so. /f>Ian's Unhappiness, as I con- strue, comes of his Greatness ; it is because thefeTs an Mnfinite in him, which with all his cunnins: he cannot quite bury under the Finite. J Will the whole Finance Ministers and Upholsterers and Confectioners of mod- ern KurojKi undertake, in joint-stock company, to make one Shoeblack h.M'Pv ? 1 hey cannot accomplish it, above an hour or two : for the Shoeblack also has a Soul quite other than his Stomach ; and w'ould require, if you consider it. for his permanent satisfaction and saturation, simply this allotment, no more, and no less : God's injinitr i'nivrrse altogether to hif?ise(f, therein to enjoy infinitely, and fill every wish as fast as it rose. Oceans of Hochheimer, a Throat like that of Ophiuchus : / \ THE EVERLASTING YEA. speak not of them ; to the infinite Shoeblack they are as \ nothing. No sooner is your ocean filled, than he grum- \ bles that it might have been of better vintage. Try him ', with half of a Universe, of an Omnipotence, he sets to quarrelling with the proprietor of the other half, and de- 5 clares himself the most maltreated of men. — Always there is a black spot in our sunshine : it is even, as I said, the ^hadoiv of Ourselves. ' But the whnn we have of Happiness is somewhat thus. By certain valuations, and averages, of our own 10 striking, w^e come upon some sort of average terrestrial lot ; this we fancy belongs to us by nature, and of inde- feasible right. It is simple payment of our wages, of our deserts ; requires neither thanks nor complaint ; only such overplus as there may be do we account Hap- 15 piness ; any deficit again is Misery. Now consider that we have the valuation of our own deserts ourselves, and what a fund of Self-conceit there is in each of us, — do you wonder that the balance should so often dip the wTong way, and many a Blockhead cry : See there, what /20 a payment; was ever worthy gentleman so used! — I; tell thee. Blockhead, \^\ comes of thy Vanity ; of what | \X\o\x fanciest those same deserts of thine to be. Fancy"' that thou deservesFto be hanged (as is mosT likely), thou wilt feel it happiness to be only shot : fancy that 25 thou deservest to be hanged in a hair-halter, it will be a luxury to die in hemp. ' So true it is, what I then said, that the Fraction of Life can be increased in value not so much by increasing your Niunerator as by lessening your Denominator. Nay, un- 30 less my Algebra deceive me. Unity itself divided by Zero will give Infinity. Make thy claim of wages a zero, then ; thou hast the w'orldlmdeFTliyTeetT "WelTl^^ Wisest of our time write ; '' It is only with Renunciation to 20 25 SARTOR RESARTUS. ^KntSiV^cn) that Life, properly speaking, can" be said to bcj^in." • I asked myself : What is this that, ever since earliest years, thou hast been fretting and fuming, and lament- ing and self-tormenting, on account of? Say it in a word: is it not because thou art not happy? Because the Thoi' (sweet gentleman) is not sufficiently honoured, nourished, soft-bedded, and lovingly cared-for ? Foolish soul ! What Act of Legislature was there that thou shouldst be Happy? A little while ago thou hadst no right to be at all. What if thou wert born and pre- destined not to be Happy, but to be Unhappy! Art thou notiiing other than a Vulture, then, that fliest through the Universe seeking after somewhat to eat; and shrieking dolefully because carrion enough is not given thee ? Close thy Byr on; open thy Goethe' ' Es Icuchtet iniv z7>/7T see a glimpse of it ! ' cries he elsewhere: 'there is in man a Higher than Love of Happiness: he can do without Happiness, and instead thereof find Blessedness ! Was it not to preach-forth this same Higher that sages and martyrs, the Poet and the Priest, in all times, have spoken and suffered ; bear- ing testimony, through life and through death, of the Godlike that is in Man, and how in the Godlikjf^nly has he Strength and Freedom ? Which God-^pired Doctrine art thou also honoured to be taught ; O Heavens ! and broken with manifold merciful Afflic- tions, even till thou become contrite, and learn it ! O, thank thy Destiny for these; thankfully bear what yet remain : thou hadst need of them ; the Self in thee needed to be annihilated. By benignant fever-parox- ysms is Life rooting out the deep-seated chronic Dis- ease, and triumphs over Death. On the roaring billows of Time, thou art not engulfed, but borne aloft into THE EVERLASTING YEA. 175 10 the azure of Eternity. Love not Pleasure ; love God. This is the EverlastinCz Yea, wherein all contradiction is solved: wherein whoso walks and works, it is well with him.' And again : ' Small is it that thou canst trample the Earth with its injuries under thy feet, as old Greek Zeno trained thee : thou canst Jove the Earth while it injures thee, and even because it injures thee ; for this a Greater than Zeno was needed, and he too was sent. Knowest thou that " Worship of Sorrow " ? The Temple thereof, founded some eighteen centuries ago, now lies in ruins, overgrown with jungle, the habitation of doleful creatures : nevertheless, venture forward ; in a low crypt, arched out of falling fragments, thou findest J the Altar still there, and its sacred Lamp perennially 15 ' burning.' Without pretending to comment on which strange utterances, the Editor will only remark, that there lies beside them much of a still more questionable character ; unsuited to the general apprehension ; nay, wherein he 20 himself does not see his way. Nebulous disquisitions on Religion, yet not without bursts of splendour; on the 'perennial continuance of Inspiration'; on Prophecy; that there are ' true Priests, as well as Baal-Priests, in our own day:' with more of the like sort. We select some fractions, by way of finish to this farrago. ' Cease, my much-respected Herr von Voltaire,' thus apostrophises the Professor : ' shut thy sweet voice ; for ' the task appointed thee seems finished. Sufficiently ' hast thou demonstrated this proposition, considerable or ' otherwise : That the Mythus of the Christian Religion ' looks not in the eighteenth century as it did in the ' eighth. Alas, were thy six-arid-thirty quartos, and the ' six-and-thirty thousand other quartos and folios, and fly- V- 25 W 30 (^ SAK7VK A'ESAKTL'S. ing .shccl.s or reams, printed before and since on the same subject, all needed to convince us of so little ! Hut wliat next ? Will thou iielp us to embody the divine Spirit of that Religion in a new Mythus, in a new vehicle and vesture, that our Souls, otherwise too like perisiiing, may live ? What ! thou hast no faculty in that kind? Only a torch for burning, no hammer for i)uildmg? Take our thanks, then, and thyself away. ' Meanwhile what are antiquated Mythuses to me ? Or i.s the (lod present, felt in my own heart, a thing which 'llerr von Voltaire will dispute out of me; or dispute 'into me? To the ^'Worship of Sorrow'' ascribe what ' origin and genesis thou pleasest, Jias not that Worship 15 'originated, and been generated; is it not herd Feel it ' in thy heart, and then say whether it is of God ! This ' is lielief ; all else is Opinion, — for which latter whoso 'will, let him worry and be worried.' ' Neither,' observes he elsewhere, ' shall ye tear-out CO ' one another's eyes, struggling over "Plenary Inspira- 'tion," and such-like: try rather to get a little even ' Partial Inspiration, each of you for himself. One Bible ' I know, of whose Plenary Inspiration doubt is not so 'much as possible; nay with my own eyes I saw the j; '(iod's-lland writing it: thereof all other Bibles are but ' Leaves, — say, in Picture- Writing to assist the weaker ' faculty.' Or to give the wearied reader relief, and, bring it to an end, let him take the following perhaps more intelligible 30 passage : 'To me, in this our life,' says the Professor, 'which ' is an internecine warlare with the Time-spirit, other ' warfare seems questionable. Hast thou in any way a 'Contention with thy brother, I advise thee, think well THE EVERLASTING YEA. 177 what the meaning thereof is. If thou gauge it to the I bottom, it is simply this : " Fellow, see ! thou art taking ! more than thy share of Happiness in the world, some- 1 thing from wj- share : which, by the Heavens, thou shalt not; nay, 1 will fight thee rather." — Alas, and the 5 whole lot to be divided is such a beggarly matter, truly a "feast of shells," for the substance has been spilled out : not enough to quench one Appetite ; and the col- lective human species clutching at them ! — Can we not, in all such cases, rather say: "Take it, thou too-rave- 10 nous individual ; take that pitiful additional fraction of a share, which I reckoned mine, but which thou so want- est ; take it with a blessing : would to Heaven I had enough for thee ! " — If Fichte's IVissenschaftslehre be, "to a certain extent. Applied Christianity," surely to a \\ still greater extent, so is this. We have here not a / Whole Duty of Man, yet a Half Duty, namely, the Pas- sive half : could we but do it, as we can demonstrate it ! ' But indeed Conviction, were it never so excellent, is worthless till it convert itself into Conduct. Nay, prop- 20 erly Conviction is not possible till then ; inasmuch as all Speculation is by nature endless, formless, a vortex amid vortices : only by a felt indubitable certainty of Experience does it find any centre to revolve round, and so fashion itself into a system. Most true is it, as a -c; wise man teaches us, that " Doubj; of any sort cannot be removed excep t by Action, l On which ground, too, j let him who gropes painfully in darkness or uncertain light, and prays vehemently that the dawn may ripen \ into day, lay this other precept well to heart, which to 30 me was of invaluable service : " Do the Duty t uhich lies \ , nearest thee''' wh ich thou knowest to be a Duty ! Thy second Duty will already have become clearer. ' May we not say, however, that the hour of Spiritual ,^ SAA'TOR RESARTUS. l...;i.mLhisemcnt is even this: When your Ideal World, wherein the wiiolc man has been dimly struggling and inexpressibly languishing to work, becomes revealed and thrown open ; and you discover, with amazement enough, like tlie Lothario in Wilhcbn Meister, that your "America is here or nowhere"? The Situation that has not its Duty, its Ideal, was never yet occupied by man. \'es here, in this poor, miserable, hampered, des- picable Actual, wherein thou even now standest, here or nowhere is thy Ideal : work it out therefrom ; and work- ing, believe, live, be free. Fool ! the Ideal is in thyself, the iniprdmi^MxLt^^ is in th^^::;nf^-TT>'Y <^""'^'^''^" is but the stulT thou art to shape that same Ideal out of : what matters whether such stuff be of this sort or that, so the Form thou give it be heroic, be poetic? O thou that pinest in the imprisonment of the Actual, and criest bit- terly to the gods for a kingdom wherein to rule and create, know this of a truth : the thing thou seekest is already with thee, " here or nowhere," couldst thou only see ! * Hut it is with man's Soul as it was with Nature : the beginning of Creation is — Light. Till the eye have vision, the whole members are in bonds. Divine mo- ment, when over the tempest-tost Soul, as once over the wild-weltering Chaos, it is spoken : Let there be light! Ever to the greatest that has felt such moment, is it not miraculous and God-announcing ; even as, under sim- pler figures, to the simplest and least. The mad prime- val Discord is hushed; the rudely-jumbled conflicting elements bipd themselves into separate Firmaments : deep silent rock-foundations are built beneath ; and the skyey vault with its everlasting Luminaries above : in- stead of a dark wasteful Chaos, we have a blooming, fertile, Heaven-encompassed World. PA USE. 179 ' I too could now say to myself : Be no longer a Chaos, ' but a World, or even Worldkin. Produce ! Produce ! ' Were it but the pitifullest infinitesimal fraction of a ' Product, produce it, in God's name ! 'Tis the utmost ' thou hast in thee : out with it, then. Up, up ! Whatso- ; ' ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy whole might. 'Work while it is called Today; for the Night cometh, ' wherein no man can work.' ^ CHAPTER X. PAUSE. Thus have we, as closely and perhaps satisfactorily as, in such circumstances, might be, followed Teufels- 10 drockh through the various successive states and stages of Growth, Entanglement, Unbelief, and almost Repro- bation, into a certain clearer state of what he himself seems to consider as Conversion. ' Blame not the word, says he; 'rejoice rather that such a word, signifying 15 such a thing, has come to light in our modern Era, though hidden from the wisest Ancients. The Old World knew nothing of Conversion ; instead of an Ecce Homo, they had only some Choice of- Hercules. It was a new-attained progress in the Moral Development of 20 man : hereby has the Highest come home to the bosoms of the most Limited ; what to Plato was but a hallucina- tion, and to Socrates a chimera, is now clear and certain to your Zinzendorfs, your Wesleys, and the poorest of their Pietists and Methodists.' 25 It is here, then, that the spiritual majority of Teufels- drockh commences : we are henceforth to see him ' work ,^ , S A A' I OK A'AS.-iA'rrS. in well-doing," with the spirit and clear aims of a Man. He has discovered that the Ideal Workshop he so panted for is even this same Actual ill-furnished Workshop he has so long been stumbling in. He can say to himself: 5 • Tools. > Thou hast no Tools? Why, there is not a Man, 'or a 'Thing, now alive but has tools. The basest of ' created animalcules, the Spider itself, has a spinning- ' jenny, and warping-mill, and power-loom within its 'head: the stupidest of Oysters has a Papin's-Digester, 10 • with stone-and-lime house to hold it in : every being ' that can live can do something : this let him ^o. — Tools.? ' Hast thou not a Brain, furnished, furnishable with some ' iilimmerinirs of Lijrht : and three fingers to hold a Pen 'withal.' Never since Aaron's Rod went out of practice, 15 'or even before it, was there such a wonder-working "£li''\ ' gr^^^^r t^b-*" all recorded miracles have been ' piiriiiriiiiid b y l^ens. For stfangery~in~^fITis^so solid- ' seeming World, which nevertheless is in continual rest- ' less i\ux, it is appointed that Soumi, to appearance the 20 * most Meeting, should be the most continuing of all 'things. The Word is well said to be omnipotent in ' this world ; man, thereby divine, can create as by a jF/af. ' .\wake, arise ! Speak forth what is in thee ; what God ' has given thee, what the Devil shall not take away. .'5 ' Higher task than that of Priesthood was allotted to no ' man : wert thou but the meanest in that sacred Hie- * rarchy. is it not honour enough therein to spend and be ' spent ? * By this .Art, which whoso will may sacrilegiously de- 30 'gr.ade into a handicraft,' adds Teufelsdrockh, 'have I 'thenceforth abidden. Writings of mine, not indeed 'known as mine (for what am /.^), have fallen, perhaps ' not altogether void, into the mighty seed-field of Opinion: \ ' fruits of my unseen sowing gratifyingly meet me here and PAUSE. i8i ' there. I thank the Heavens that I have now found my ' CalHng ; wherein, with or without perceptible result, I ' am minded diligently to persevere. ' Nay, how knowest thou,' cries he, ' but this and the ' other pregnant Device, now grown to be a world-re- 5 ' nowned far-working Institution ; like a grain of right ' mustard-seed once cast into the right soil, and now ' stretching-out strong boughs to the four winds, for the ' birds of- the air to lodge in, — may have been properly 'my doing .!* Some one's doing, it without doubt was; 10 'from some Idea, in some single Heaa, It did first of all 'take beginning: why not from some Idea in mine?' Does Teufelsdrockh here glance at that ' Society for ' THE Conservation of Property {Eigenthiims-conser- ^ 7 _,QQ SJ/r/VA' KKSAR'/VS. docs symbolical ; a revelation to Sense of the mystic god-given force that is in him ; a " Gospel of Freedom," which he, the " Messias of Nature," preaches, as he can, by act and word? Not a Hut he builds but is the visible embodiment of a Thought; but bears visible record of invisible things ; but is, in the transcendental sense, symbolical as well as real.' ' Man,' says the Professor elsewhere, in quite antipodal contrast with these high-soaring delineations, which we have here cut-short on the verge of the inane, ' Man is by birth somewhat of an owl. Perhaps, too, of all the owl- eries that ever possessed him, the most owlish, if we consider it, is that of your actually existing Motive-Mill- wrights. Fantastic tricks enough has man played, in his time ; has fancied himself to be most things, down even to an animated heap of Glass : but to fancy him- self a dead Iron-Balance for weighing Pains and Pleas- ures on, was reserved for this his latter era. There stands he, his Universe one huge Manger, filled with hay and thistles to be weighed against each other ; and looks long-eared enough. Alas, poor devil ! spectres are appointed to haunt him : one age he is hagridden, bewitched ; the next, priestridden, befooled ; in all ages, bedevilled. And now the Genius of Mechanism smoth- ers him worse than any Nightmare did ; till the Soul is nigh choked out of him, and only a kind of Digestive, •Mechanic life remains. In Earth and in Heaven he can see nothing but Mechanism ; has fear for nothing else, hope in nothing else : the world would indeed grind him to pieces; but cannot he fathom the Doc- trine of Motives, and cunningly compute these, and mechanise them to grind the other way.'' ' Were he not, as has been said, purblinded by enchant- ' mcnt. you had but to bid him open his eyes and look. \ I SYMBOLS. 20 1 In which country, in which time, was it hitherto that man's history, or the history of any man, went-on by calculated or calculable " Motives "? What make ye of your Christianities, and Chivalries, and Reformations, and Marseillese Hymns, and Reigns of Terror ? Nay, 5 has not perhaps, the Motive-grinder himself been /// Love? Did he never stand so much as a contested Election ? Leave him to Time, and the medicating virtue of Nature.' 'Yes, Friends,' elsewhere observes the Professor, 'not 10 our Logicd^_M.eJil§.urajiye faculty, but our Imaginative one is King, over us ; I might say. Priest and Prophet 1 to lead us heavenward ; or Magician and Wizard to lead us hellward. Nay, even for the basest Sensualist, what is Sense but the implement of Fantasy; the vessel it 15 drinks out of? Ever in the dullest existence, there is a ^' sheen either of Inspiration or of Madness (thou partly hast it in thy choice, which of the two), that gleams-in from the circumambient Eternity, and colours with its own hues our little islet of Time. The Understanding 20 is indeed thy window, too clear thou canst not make it ; but Fantasy is thy eye, with its colour-giving retina, healthy or diseased. Have not I myself known five-^ hundred living soldiers sabred into crows'-meat for a piece of glazed cotton, which they called their Flag; 25 which, had you sold it at any market-cross, would not have brought above three groschen .? Did not the whole Hungarian Nation rise, like some tumultuous moon- stirred Atlantic, when Kaiser Joseph pocketed their Iron Crown ; an implement, as was sagaciously observed, in 30 size and commercial value little differing from a horse- shoe 1 It is in and through Symbols that man, con- sciously or unconsciously, lives, works, and has his being : those ages, moreover, are accounted the noblest 202 SARTOR RESARTUS. which can the best recognise symbolical worth, and prize it the highest. For is not a Symbol ever, to him who has eyes for it, some dimmer or clearer revelation of llie (lodlike? • Of Symbols, however, 1 remark farther, that they have both an c-* ''•>-'<: and intrinsic value ; oftenest the former only. ^\ r instance, was in that clouted Shoe, which the peasants bore aloft witli them as ensign in their Bau^nikrug (Peasants' War; ? Or in the Wallet- and-staff round which the Netherland Gueux, glorying in that nickname of Beggars, heroically rallied and pre- vailed, though against King Philip himself? Intrinsic significance these had none : only extrinsic ; as the acci- dental Standards of multitudes more or less sacredly uniting together ; in which union itself, as above noted, tiiere is ever something mystical and borrowing of the (lodlike. Under a like category, too, stand, or stood, the stupidest heraldic Coats-of-arms ; military Banners everywhere ; and generally all national or other sectarian Costumes and Customs : they have no intrinsic, neces- sary divineness, or even worth ; but have acquired an extrinsic one. Nevertheless through all these there glimmers something of a Divine Idea; as through mili-o?^ tary Banners themselves, the Divine Idea of Duty, of heroic Daring; in some instances,of Freedom, of Right. Nay, the highest ensign that men ever met and embraced ' * under, the Cross itself, had no meaning save an acci- dental extrinsic one. ' Another matter it is, however, when your Symbol has nUrinsic^ meaning, and is of itself fit that men should unite round it. Let but the Godlike manifest itself to Sense ; let but Eternity look, more or less visibly, through the Time-figure {Zeitbild) ! Then is it fit that men unite there ; and worship together before such SYMBOLS. 2P3 Symbol ; and so from day to day, and from age to age, superadd to it new divineness. ' Of this latter sort are all true Works of Art : in them (if thou know a Work of Art from a Daub of Artifice) wilt thou discern Eternity looking through Time ; the 5 Godlike rendered visible. Here too may an extrinsic value gradually superadd itself : thus certain Iliads^ and the like, have, in three-thousand years, attained quite new significance. But nobler than all in this kind are the Lives of heroic god-inspired Men; for what other 10 Work of Art is so divine } In Death too, in the Death of the Just, as the last perfection of a Work of Art, may we not discern symbolic meaning 1 In that divinely transfigured Sleep, as of Victory, resting over the be- loved face which now knows thee no more, read (if thou 15 canst for tears) the confluence of Time with Eternity, and some gleam of the latter peering through. ' Highest of all Symbols are those wherein the Artist or Poet has risen into Prophet, and all men can recog- nise a present God, and worship the same : I mean 20 religious Symbols. Various enough have been such religious Symbols, what we call Religions ; as men stood in this stage of culture or the other, and could worse or better body-forth the Godlike : some Symbols with a transient intrinsic worth ; many with only an extrinsic. 25 If thou ask to what height man has carried it in this manner, look on our divinest Symbol : on Jesus of Nazareth, and his Life, and his Biography, and what followed therefrom. Higher has the human thought not yet _ reached : this is Christianity and Christendom; a 30 Symbol of quite perennial, infinite character ; whose significance will ever demand to be anew inquired into, and anew made manifest. * But, on the whole, as Time adds much to the sacred- 204 SARTOR A'ESARTCS. ness of Symbols, so likewise in his progress he at length defaces, or even desecrates them ; and Symbols, like all terrestrial Garments, wax old. Homer's Epos has not ceased to be true ; yet it is no longer our Epos, but shines in the distance, if clearer and clearer, yet also smaller and smaller, like a receding Star. It needs a scientific telescope, it needs to be reinterpreted and artificially brought near us, before we can so much as know that it icas a Sun. So likewise a day comes when the Runic Thor, with his Eddas, must withdraw into dimness : and many an African Mumbo-Jumbo, and Indian Tawaw be utterly abolished. For all things, even' Celestial Luminaries, much more atmospheric meteors, have their rise, their culmination, their decline.' ' Small is this which thou tellest me, that the Royal Sceptre is but a piece of gilt-wood ; that the Pyx has become a most foolish box, and truly, as Ancient Pistol thought, "of little price." A right Conjuror might I name thee, couldst thou conjure back into these wooden tools the divine virtue they once held.' ' Of this thing, however, be certain : wouldst thou plant for Eternity, then plant into the deep infinite faculties of man, his Fantasy and Heart : wouldst thou plant for \'ear and Day, then plant into his shallow superficial facul- ties, his Self-love and Arithmetical Understanding, what will grow there? A Hierarch, therefore, and Pontiff of the World will we call him, the Poet and inspired Maker; who, Prometheus-like, can shape new Symbols, and bring new Fire from Heaven to fix it there. Such too will not always l)e wanting; neither perhaps now are. Meanwhile, as the average of matter goes, we account him Legislator and wise who can so much as tell w^hen a Symbol has grown old, and gently remove it. ' When, as the last English Coronation was preparing,' BELOTAGE. 20c concludes this wonderful Professor, ' I read in their 'Newspapers that the "Champion of England," he who ' has to offer battle to the Universe for his new King, ' had brought it so far that he could now " mount his ' horse with little assistance," I said to myself : Here also 5 ' we have a Symbol well-nigh superannuated. Alas, move ' whithersoever you may, are not the tatters and rags of ' superannuated^ worn-out Symbols (in this Ragfair of a ' World) dropping off everywhere, to hoodwink, to halter, / 'to tether you; nay, if you shake them not aside, threat- 10 ' ening to accumulate, and perhaps produce suffocation ? ' CHAPTER IV. HELOTAGE. At this point we determine on adverting shortly, or rather reverting, to a certain Tract of Hofrath Heu- schrecke's, entitled Institute for the Repression of Popula- tion ; whichlies, dishonourably enough' (with torn leaves, 15 and a perceptible smell of aloetic drugs), stuffed into the ^.'^^E.iices.^ Not indeed for the sake of the Tract itself, which we admire little ; but of the marginal Notes, evi- dently in Teufelsdrockh's hand, which rather copiously fringe it. A few of these may be in the right place here. 20 Into the Hofrath's Institute, with its extraordinary schemes, and machinery of Corresponding Boards and the like, we shall not so much as glance. Enough for us to understand that Heuschrecke is a disciple of Malthus ; and so zealous for the doctrine, that his zeal almost 25 literally eats him up. A deadly fear of Population pos- sesses the Hofrath ; something like a fixed-idea ; un- :o6 SA A' 70 A- A'ESA A' TUS. doubtcdly akin co the more diluted forms of Madness, Nowlicrc, in that quarter of his intellectual world, is there lij^ht; nothing but a grim shadow of Hunger; open mouths opening wider and wider ; a world to terminate 5 by the friglitfuliest consummation : by its too dense in- habitants, famished into delirium, universally eating one another. To make air for himself in which strangula- tion, choking enough to a benevolent heart, the Hofrath founds, or proposes to found, this Institute of his, as the 10 best he can do. It is only with our Professor's comments thereon that we concern ourselves. First, then, remark that Teufelsdrockh, as a speculative Radical, has his own notions about human dignity ; that the Zahdarm palaces and courtesies have not made him 15 forgetful of the Futteral cottages. On the blank cover of Ileuschrecke's Tract, we find the following indistinctly engrossed : ^ ' Two men I honour, and no third. First, the toilworn ' Craftsman that with earth-made Implement laboriously ::o 'conquers the Earth, and makes her man's. Venerable 'to me is llie hard Hand: crooked, coarse: wherein not- ' withstanding lies a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as ' of the Sceptre of this Planet. Venerable too is the ' rugged face, all weather-tanned, besoiled, with its rude -5 ' intelligence; for it is the face of a Man living manlike. jfO, but the more venerable for thy rudeness, and even ' because we must pity as well as love thee ! Hardly- ' entreated Brother ! For us was thy back so bent, for us 'were thy straight limbs and fingers so deformed: thou ;>o ' wert our Conscript, on whom the lot fell, and fighting ' our battles wert so marred. For in thee too lay a god- ' created Form, but it was not to be unfolded ; encrusted ' must it stand with the thick adhesions and defacements 'of Labour: and thy body, like thy soul, was not to know HELOTAGE. 207 freedom. Yet toil on, toil on : thou art in thy duty, be out of it who may ; thou toilest for the altogether indis- pensable, for daily bread. ' A second man I honour, and still more highly : Him who is seen toiling for the spiritually indispensable ; not 5 daily bread, but the bread of Life. Is not he too in his duty ; endeavouring towards inward Harmony ; reveal- ing this, by act or by word, through all his outward en- deavours, be they high or low? Highest of all, when his outward and his inward endeavour are one : when 10 we can name him Artist ; not earthly Craftsman only, but inspired Thinker, who with heaven-made Implement conquers Heaven for us ! If the poor and humble toil that we have Food, must not the high and glorious toil for him in return, that he have Light, have Guidance, 15 Freedom, Immortality } — These two, in all their degrees, -^ I honour : all else is chaff and dust, which let the wind blow whither it listeth. ' Unspeakably touching is it, however, when I find ■ both dignities united ; and he that must toil outwardly 20 for the lowest of man's wants, is also toiling inwardly for the^highest. Sublimer in this world know I nothing than a Peasant Saint, could such now anywhere be met with. Such a one will take thee back to Nazareth itself ; thou wilt see the splendour of Heaven spring forth from -5 the humblest depths of Earth, like a light shining in great darkness.' And again : * It is not because of his toils that I lament for the poor : we must all toil, or steal (howsoever we name our stealing), which is worse ; no faithful workman 30 finds his task a pastime. The poor is hungry and athirst ; but for him also there is food and drink : he is heavy-laden and weary ; but for him also the Heavens send Sleep, and of the deepest ; in his smoky cribs, a 3o8 SARTOR RESARTUS. clear dewy heaven of Rest envelops him, and fitful glit- terings of cloud-skirted Dreams. But what I do mourn over is, that the lamp of his soul should go out; that no ray of heavenly, or even of earthly knowledge, should visit him ; but only, in the haggard darkness, like tw^o spectres, Fear and Indignation bear him compan)\_ Alas, while the Body stands so broad and brawny, must the Soul lie blinded, dwarfed, stupefied, almost annihilated ! Alas, was this too a Breath of God : bestowed in Heaven, but on earth never to be unfolded ! — That there should one Man die ignorant who had capacity for Knowledge, this I call a tragedy, were it to happen more than twenty times .in the minute, as by some com- putations it does. The miserable fraction of Science which our united Mankind, in a wide Universe of Nes- cience, has acquired, why is not this, with all diligence, imparted to all ? ' Quite in an opposite strain is the following : ' The old Spartans had a wiser method ; and went out and hunted- down their Helots, and speared and spitted them, when they grew too numerous. With our improved fashions, of hunting, Herr Hofrath, now after the invention of fire- arms, and standing-armies, how much easier were such a a hunt ! Perhaps in the most thickly-peopled country, some three days annually might suffice to shoot all the able-bodied Paupers that had accumulated within the year. Let Governments think of this. The expense were trifling : nay, the very carcasses would pay it. Have them salted and barrelled ; could not you victual therewith, if not Army and Navy, yet richly such infirm Paupers, in workhouses and elsewhere, as enlightened Charity, dreading no evil of them, might see good to keep alive t ' ' And yet,' writes he farther on, ' there must be some- HELOTAGE. 200 ' thing wrong. A full-formed Horse will, in any market, ' bring from twenty to as high as two hundred Friedrichs ' d'or : such is his worth to the world. A full-formed ' Man is not only worth nothing to the world, but the ' world could afford him a round sum would he simply 5 ' engage to go and hang himself. Nevertheless, which of ' the two was the more cunningly-devised article, even as ' an_Engine t Good Heavens ! A white European Man, ' standing on his two Legs, with his two five-fingered ' Hands at his shackle-bones, and miraculous Head on his 10 ' shoulders, is worth, I should say, from fifty to a hundred ' Horses ! ' __lTr-ue, thou Gold-Hofrath,' cries the Professor else- where : ' too crowded indeed ! Meanwhile, what portion ' of this inconsiderable terraqueous Globe have ye actu- 15 ' ally tilled and delved, till it will grow no more ? How ' thick stands your Population in the Pampas and Savan- ' nas of America ; round ancient Carthage, and in the in- ' terior of Africa ; on both slopes of the Altaic chain, in ' the central Platform of Asia ; in Spain, Greece, Turkey, 20 ' Grim Tartary, the Curragh of Kildare ? One man, in ' one year, as I have understood it, if you lend him Earth, ' will feed himself and nine others. Alas, where now are ' the Hengsts and Alarics of our still-glowing, still-expand- ' ing Europe ; who, when their home is grown too narrow, 25 ' will enlist, and, like Fire-pillars, guide onwards those su- ' perfluous masses of indomitable living Valour ; equipped, ' not now with the battle-axe and war-chariot, but with the ' steam-engine and ploughshare ? Where are they t — ' Preserving their Game ! ' 30 SAKTOK RESAKTi'S. CHAPTER V THE PHCEN'IX. Pi'TTiNT. which four singular Chapters together, and alongside of them numerous hints, and even direct utter- ances, scattered over these Writings of his, we come upon the startling yet not quite unlooked-for conclusion, 5 that Teufelsdrockh is one of those who consider Society, properly so called, to be as good as extinct: and that only the gregarious feelings, and old inherited habitudes, at this juncture, hold us from Dispersion, and universal national, civil, domestic and personal war \ He says lo expressly : ' For the last three centuries, above all for the last three quarters of a centur}-. that same Pericardial Nervous Tissue (as we named it) of Religion, where lies the Life-essence of Society, has been smote-at and per- forated, needfully and needlessly ; till now it is quite rent into shreds: and Society, long pining, diabetic, con- sumptive, can be regarded as defunct ; for those spas- modic, galvanic sprawlings are not life : neither indeed will th( v endure, galvanise as you may. beyond two d.u^ ' Call ye that a Society,' cries he again, ' where there is no longer any Social Idea extant ; not so much as the Idea of a common Home, but only of a common, over- crowded Lodjring-house ? Where each, isolated. re2:ard- less of his neighbour, turned against his neighbour. clutches what he can get and cries " Mine ! " and calls it Peace, because, in the cut-purse and cut-throat Scram- ble, no steel knives, but a far cunninger sort, can be employed ? Where Friendship. Communion, has become an incredible tradition : and your holiest Sacramental 30 ' Supper is a smoking Tavern Dinner, with Cook for 20 THE PHiENIX. 211 ' Evangelist ? Where your Priest has no tongue but for ' plate-licking : and your high Guides and Governors can- ' not guide ; but on all hands hear it passionately pro- ' claimed : Laissez faire ; Leave us alone of your guidance, ' such light is darker than darkness ; eat you your wages, ' and sleep ! 'Thus, too,' continues he, 'does an observant eye dis- ' cern everywhere that saddest spectacle : The Poor ' perishing, like neglected, foundered Draught-Cattle, of ' Hunger and Over-work ; the Rich, still more wretchedly, lo ' of Idleness, Satiety, and Over-growth. The Highest in ' rank, at length, without honour from the Lowest ; ' scarcely, with a little mouth-honour, as from tavern- ' waiters who expect to put it in the bill. Once-sacred ' Symbols fluttering as empty Pageants, whereof men 15 ' grudge even the expense ; a World becoming disman- 1 ' tied : in one word, the Church fallen speechless, from/ ' obesity and apoplexy ; the S iate shrunken into ^ ' Police-Office, straitened to get its pay ! ' We might ask, are there many 'observant eyes,' be- 20 longing to practical men, in England or elsewhere, which have descried these phenomena ; or is it only from the mystic elevation of a German Wahngasse that such won- ders are visible ? Teufelsdrockh contends that the aspect of a 'deceased or expiring Society' fronts us 25 everywhere, so that whoso runs may read. ' \\'hat, for 'example,' says he, 'is the imiversally-arrogated Virtue, ' almost the sole remaining Catholic Virtue, of these ' days ? For some half century, it has been the thing you ' name " Independence." Suspicion of " Servility," of 30 ' reverence for Superiors, the very dogleech is anxious to ' disavow. Fools ! Were your Superiors worthy to ' govern, and you worthy to obey, reverence for them ' were eyen your only possible freedom. Independence, ,,, SAA'JVK RESAKTUS. •in all kinds, is rebellion; if unjust rebellion, why parade • it, and everywhere prescribe it ? ' But what then? Are we returning, as Rousseau prayed, to the state of Nature? 'The Soul Politic having departed,' says Teufelsdrockh, ' what can follow but that the liody Politic be decently interred, to avoid putrescence ? Liberals, Economists, Utilitarians enough 1 see marching with its bier, and chanting loud paeans, towards the funeral-pile, where, amid wailings from some, and saturnalian revelries from the most, the venerable Corpse is to be burnt. Or, in plain words, that these men. Liberals, Utilitarians, or whatsoever they are called, will ultimately carry their point, and dissever and destroy most existing Institutions of Society, seems a thing which has some time ago ceased to be doubtful. ' Do we not see a little subdivision of the grand Utili- tarian Armament come to light even in insulated Eng- land ? .\ living nucleus, that will attract and grow, does at length appear there also ; and under curious phasis ; properly as the inconsiderable fag-end, and so far in the rear of the others as to fancy itself the van. Our European Mechanisers are a sect of boundless dif- fusion, activity, and cooperative spirit : has not Utilitari- anism nourished in high places of Thought, here among ourselves, and in every European country, at some time or other, within the last fifty years ? If now in all countries, except perhaps England, it has ceased to flourish, or indeed to exist, among Thinkers, and sunk to Journalists and the popular mass, — who sees not liiat, as hereby it no longer preaches, so the reason is, it now needs no Preaching, but is in full universal Action, the doctrine everywhere known, and enthusias- tically laid to heart ? The fit pabulum, in these times, THE PIICENIX. 213 for a certain rugged workshop intellect and heart, no- wise without their corresponding workshop strength and ferocity, it requires but to be stated in such scenes to make proselytes enough. — Admirably calculated for destroying, only not for rebuilding ! It spreads like 5 a sort of Dog-madness ; till the whole World-kennel wUl be rabid ; then woe to the Huntsmen, with or without their whips ! They should have given the quadrupeds water,' adds he ; * the water, namely, of Knowledge and of Life, while it was yet time.' 10 ThuSj. if Professor Teufelsdrockh can be relied on, we are at this hour in a most critical condition ; beleaguered by that boundless 'Armament of Mechanisers ' and Un- believers, threatening to strip us bare! 'The World,' says he, ' as it needs must, is under a process of devasta- 15 tion and waste, which, whether by silent assiduous cor- rosion, or open.cpiickerc'pmbustion, as the case chances, will effectually enough annihilate the past Forms of Society ; replace them with what it may. For the pres- ent, it is contemplated that when man's whole Spiritual 20 Interests are once divested^ these innumerable stript-off Garments shall mostly be burnt ; but the sounder Rags among them be quilted together into one huge Irish watchcoat for the defence of the Body only ! ' — This, we think, is but Job's-news to the humane reader. 25 ' Nevertheless,' cries Teufelsdrockh, ' who can hinder ' it ; who is there that can clutch into the wheel-spokes of ' Destiny, and say to the Spirit of the Time : Turn back, ' I command thee ? — Wiser were it that we yielded to ' the Inevitable and Inexorable, and accounted even this 30 'the best.' Nay, might not an attentive Editor, drawing his own inferences from what stands written, conjecture that Teufelsdrockh individually had yielded to this same SARTOR RESARTUS. 'Inevitable and Inexorable' heartily enough; and now sat waiting the issue, with his natural diabolico-angelical Indifference, if not even Placidity? Did we not hear him complain that Uie World was a 'huge Ragfair,' and > the ' rags and tatters of old Symbols ' were raining-down r\crywhere, like to drift him in, and suffocate him? What with those ' unhunted Helots' of his; and the un- even sii vos mm vobis pressure, and hard-crashing collision he is pleased to discern in existing things ; what with 10 the so hateful 'empty Masks,' full of beetles and spiders, yet glaring out on him, from their glass eyes, ' with a ghastly affectation of life,' — we feel entitled to con- clude him even willing that much should be thrown to the Devil, so it were but done gently! Safe himself in '- that 'Pinnacle of Weissnichtwo,' he would consent, with . iragic solemnity, that the monster Utilitaria, held hack, indeed, and moderated by nose-rings, haltersVToot- shackles, and every conceivable modification of rope, should go forth to do her work ; — to tread down old .'o ruinous Palaces and Temples with her broad hoof, till the whole were trodden down, that new and better might be built ! Remarkable in this point of view are the fol- lowing sentences. >ays he, ' is not dead : that Carcass, which .'5 )"ii < III ut.\id Society, is but her mortal coil which ' she has shuflled-off, to assume a nobler ; she herself, ' through perpetual metamorphoses, in fairer and fairer ' development, has to live till Time also merge in Eternity. ' Wheresoever two or three Living Men are gathered JO ' together, there is Society ; or there it will be, with its 'cunning mechanisms and stupendous structures, over- ' spreading this little Globe, and reaching upwards to ' Heaven and downwards to Gehenna: for always, under 'one or the other figure, it has two authenjtk^evelations, THE FffCENlX. ^iS * of a God and of a Devil ; the Pulpit, namely, and the 'Gallows.' -— =^ Indeed, we already heard him speak of ' Religion, in unnoticed nooks, weaving for herself new Vestures ; ' — Teufelsdrockh himself being one of the loom-treadles ? 5 Elsewhere he quotes without censure that strange apho- rism of Saint-Simon's, concerning which and whom so much were to be said : ^L'dge d^or, quhme aveugle tradi- '' tion a place jusqu^ici dans le passe, est devaiit nous ; The ' golden age, which a blind tradition has hitherto placed ro ' in the Past, is Before us.' — ■ But listen again : 'When the Phoenix is fanning her funeral pyre, will ' there not be sparks flying ! Alas, some millions of ' men, and among them such as a Napoleon, have already 'been licked into that high-eddying Flame, and like 15 ' moths consumed there. Still also have we to fear that ' incautious beards will get singed. ' For the rest, in what year of grace such Phoenix-cre- ' mation will be completed, you need not ask. The law ' of Perseverance is among the deepest in man : by 20 ' nature he hates change ; seldom will he quit his old ' house till it has actually fallen about his ears. Thus 'have I seen Solemnities linger as Ceremonies, sacred ' Symbols as idle Pageants, to the extent of three- ' hundred years and more after all life and sacredness 25 ' had evaporated out of them. And then, finally, what ' time the Phoenix Death-Birth itself will require, depends ' on unseen contingencies. — Meanwhile, would Destiny 'offer Mankind, that after, say two centuries of convul- ' sion and conflagration, more or less vivid, the fire-crea- 30 'tion should be accomplished, and we find ourselves 'again in a Living Society, and no longer fighting but ' working, — were it not perhaps prudent in Mankind to ' strike the bargain ? ' SAKTOR RESARTUS. inu> .> Iciifclsdrbckh content that old sick Society should be deliberately burnt (alas, with quite other fuel than spice-wood;; in the faith that she is a Phoenix; and that a new heavenbom young one will rise out of her ? ashes ! We ourselves, restricted to the duty of Indicator, shall forbear commentary. Meanwhile, will not the judi- cious reader shake his head, and reproachfully, yet more in sorrow than in anger, say or think : From a Doctor utritisque Juris, titular Professor in a University, and man ,0 to whom hitherto, for his services, Society, bad as she is, has given not only food and raiment (of a kind) but books, tobacco and gukguk, we expected more gratitude to his benefactress ; and less of a blind trust in the future, which resembles that rather of a philosophical Fatalist 15 and Knthusiast, than of a solid householder paying scot- and-lot in a Christian country. CHAPTER VI. OLD CLOTHES. As mentioned above, Teufelsdrockh, though a Sanscu- lottist. is in practice probably the politest man extant ; his whole heart and life are penetrated and informed ro with the spirit of politeness : a noble natural Courtesy shines through him, beautifying his vagaries : like sun- light, making a rosy-tingered, rainbow-dyed Aurora out of mere aqueous clouds ; nay, brightening London-smoke itself into gold vapour, as from the crucible of an alche- r5 mist. Hear in what earnest though fantastic wise he expresses himself on this head : • -^1, ,11 Courtesy be done only to the rich, and only by OLD CLOTHES. 217 * the rich ? In Good-breeding, which differs, if at all, ' from High-breeding, only as it gracefully remembers ' the rights of others, rather than gracefully insists on ' its own rights, I discern no special connexion with ' wealth or birth : but rather that it lies in human nature 5 ' itself, and is due from all men towards all men. Of a ' truth, were your Schoolmaster at his post, and worth ' anything when there, this, with so much else, would be ' reformed. Nay, each man were then also his neigh- ' hour's schoolmaster; till at length a rude-visaged un- 10 ' mannered Peasant could no more be met with, than a ' Peasant unacquainted with botanical Physiology, or who ' felt not that the clod he broke was created in Heaven. ' For whether thou bear a sceptre or a sledge-hammer, ' art thou not ALIVE ; is not this thy brother alive? "There 15 'is but one Temple in the world," says Novalis, "and ' that Temple is the Body of Man. Nothing is holier ' than this high Form. Bending before men is a rever- ' ence done to this Revelation in the Flesh. We touch ' Heaven, when we lay our hands on a human Body." 20 ' On which ground, I would fain carry it farther than ' most do ; and whereas the English Johnson only bowed ' to every Clergyman, or man with a shovel-hat, I would ' bow to every Man with any sort of hat, or with no hat ' whatever. Is he not a Temple, then ; the visible Mani- 25 ' festation and Impersonation of the Divinity ? And yet, ' alas, such indiscriminate bowing serves not. For there ' is a Devil dwells in man, as well as a Divinity ; and too ' often the bow is but pocketed by the former. It would ' go to the pocket of Vanity (which is your clearest phasis 30 ' of the Devil, in these times) ; therefore must we with- ' hold it. ' The gladder am I, on the other hand, to do reverence ' to those Shells and outer Husks of the Body, wherein 2,8 SAKTOK RESARTUS. ■ no ucMi.-i. i..u,>ion any longer lodges, but only the pure • emblem and crtigies of Man : I mean, to Empty, or even • to Cast Clothes. Nay, is it not to Clothes that most men ' do reverence : to the fine frogged broadcloth, nowise to <; ' the "straddling animal with bandy legs" which it holds, 'and makes a Dignitary of? Who ever saw any Lord ' my-lorded in tattered blanket, fastened with wooden • skewer ? Nevertheless, I say, there is in such worship ' a shade of hypocrisy, a practical deception : for how lo * often does the Body appropriate what was meant for the • ( loth only ! Whoso would avoid falsehood, which is ' the essence of all Sin, will perhaps see good to take a ' dilTcrent course. That reverence which cannot actwuth- ' out obstruction and perversion when the Clothes are 15 ' full, may have free course when they are empty. Even ' as, for Hindoo Worshippers, the Pagoda is not less sacred ' than the (iod ; so do I too worship the hollow cloth Gar- ' mcnt with ecjual fervour, as when it contained the Man : ' nay, with more, for I now fear no deception, of myself I of others. ' Did not King Toomfabani, or, in other words, John ' Haliol, reign long over Scotland ; the man John Baliol ' being quite gone, and only the " Toom Tabard " (Empty 'Gown) remaining.' What still dignity dwells in a suit 25 ' of Cast Clothes ! How meekly it bears its honours ! No ' haughty looks, no scornful gesture : silent and serene it ' fronts the world ; neither demanding worship nor afraid ' to miss it. The Hat still carries the physiognomy of its ' Head : but the vanity and the stupidity, and goose-speech 30 ' which was the sign of these two, are gone. The Coat- ' arm is .stretched out, but not to strike ; the Breeches, in • modest simplicity, depend at ease, and now at last have 'a graceful flow; the Waistcoat hides no evil passion, • no riotous desire ; hunger or thirst now dwells not in it. OLD CLOTHES. 219 10 15 Thus all is purged from the grossness of sense, from the carking cares and foul vices of the World ; and rides there, on its Clothes-horse ; as, on a Pegasus, might some skyey Messenger, or purified Apparition, visiting our low Earth, ' Often, while I sojourned in that monstrous tuberosity of Civilized Life, the Capital of England ; and meditated, and questioned Destiny, under that ink-sea of vapour, black, thick, and multifarious as Spartan broth ; and was one lone Soul amid those grinding millions ; — often have I turned into their Old-Clothes Market to worship. With awe-struck heart I walk through that Monmouth Street, with its empty Suits, as through a Sanhedrim of stainless Ghosts. Silent are they, but expressive in their silence : the past witnesses and instruments of Woe and Joy, of Passions, Virtues, Crimes, and all the fathomless tumult of Good and Evil in " the Prison men call Life." Friends ! trust not the heart of that man for whom old Clothes are not venerable. Watch, too, with reverence, that bearded Jewish High-priest, who with hoarse voice, 20 like some Angel of Doom, summons them from the four winds ! On his head, like the Pope, he has three Hats, — a real triple tiara ; on either hand are the similitude of wings, whereon the summoned Garments come to alight ; and ever, as he slowly cleaves the air, sounds 25 forth his deep fateful note, as if through a trumpet he were proclaiming : " Ghosts of Life, come to Judgment ! " Reck not, ye fluttering Ghosts : he will purify you in his Purgatory, with fire and with water ; and, one day, new- created ye shall reappear. O, let him in whom the 3c flame of Devotion is ready to go out, who has never worshipped, and knows not what to worship, pace and repace, with austerest thought, the pavement of Mon- mouth Street, and say whether his heart and his eyes SARTOh' RESAh'TrS. >uu continue dry. If Field Lane, with its long fluttering • rows of yellow handkerchiefs, be a Dionysius' Ear, where, ' in stifled jarring hubbub, we hear the Indictment which ' Poverty and Vice bring against lazy Wealth, that it has 5 ' left them there cast-out and trodden under foot of Want, ' Darkness and the Devil, —then is Monmouth Street a • Mirza's Hill, where, in motley vision, the whole Pageant ' of Existence passes awfully before us ; with its wail and 'jubilee, mad loves and mad hatreds, church-bells and lo ' gallows-ropes, farce-tragedy, beast-godhood, — the Bed- ' lam of Creation ! ' To most men. as it does to ourselves, all this will seem overcharged. We too have walked through Monmouth Street, but with little feeling of ' Devotion:' probably in 15 part because the contemplative process is so fatally broken in upon by the brood of money-changers, who nestle in that Church, and importune the worshipper with merely secular proposals. Whereas Teufelsdrockh might be in that hap|:)y middle state, which leaves to the Clothes- zo broker no hope either of sale or of purchase, and so be allowed to linger there without molestation. Something wc would have given to see the little philosophical figure, with its steeple-hat and loose flowing skirts, and eyes in a tine frenzy, ' pacing and repacing in austerest thought ' 25 that foolish Street; which to him was a true Delphic avenue, and supernatural Whispering-gallery, where the '('•hosts of Life' rounded strange secrets in his ear. O thou philosophic Teufelsdrockh, that listenest while others only gabble, and with thy quick tympanum hearest the .p grass grow ! .\t the same time, is it not strange that, in Paper-bag Documents destined for an English work, there exists notliing like an authentic diary of this his sojourn in ORGANIC FILAMENTS. 221 London ; and of his Meditations among the Clothes- shops only the obscurest emblematic shadows ? Neither, in conversation (for, indeed, he was not a man to pester you with his Travels), have we heard him more than allude to the subject. 5 For the rest, however, it cannot be uninteresting that we here find how early the significance of Clothes had dawned on the now so distinguished Clothes-Professor. Might we but fancy it to have been even in Monmouth Street, at the bottom of our own English ' ink-sea,' that 10 this remarkable Volume first took being, and shot forth its salient point in his soul, — as in Chaos did the Egg of Eros, one day to be hatched into a Universe ! CHAPTER VII. ORGANIC FILAMENTS. For us, who happen to live while the World-Phoenix is burning herself, and burning so slowly that, as Teufels- 15 drockh calculates, it were a handsome bargain would she engage to have done ' within two centuries,' there seems to lie but an ashy prospect. Not altogether so, however, does the Professor figure it. ' In the living subject,' says he, ' change is wont to be gradual : thus, while the 20 serpent sheds its old skin, the new is already formed beneath. Little knowest thou of the burning of a •World-Phcenix, who fanciest that she must first burn- out, and lie as a dead cinereous heap ; and therefrom the young one start-up by miracle, and fly heavenward. 25 Far otherwise ! In that Fire-whirlwind, Creation and Destruction proceed together ; ever as the ashes of the V /,V7V'/v' A' ESA AT US. 222 Old are blown about, do organic filaments of the New mysteriously spin themselves : and amid the rushing and the waving '>f ibe Whirlwind-element, come tones of a melodious Deathsong, which end not but in tones of a more melodious Hirthsong. Nay, look into the Fire- whirlwind with thy own eyes, and thou wilt see.' Let us actually look, then : to poor individuals, who cannot expect to live two centuries, those same organic filaments, mysteriously spinning themselves, will be the best part ,o of the spectacle. First, therefore, this of Mankind in general : • in vain thou deniest it,' says the Professor; 'thou art my Brother. Thy very Hatred, thy very Envy, those foolish Lies thou tcllest of me in thy splenetic humour : what is all this but an inverted Sympathy? Were I a Steam-engine, wouldst thou take the trouble to tell lies of me ? Not thou ! I should grind all unheeded, whether badly or well. ' Wondrous truly are the bonds that unite us one and all ; whether by the soft binding of Love, or the iron chaining of Necessity, as we like to choose it. More than once have I said to myself, of some perhaps whim- sically strutting Figure, such as provokes whimsical thoughts : " Wert thou, my little Brotherkin, suddenly covercd-up within the largest imaginable Glass-bell, — what a thing it were, not for thyself only^ but for the world ! Post Letters, more or fewer, from all the four winds, impinge against thy Glass walls, but have to drop unread : neither from within comes there question or response into any Postbag; thy thoughts fall into no friendly car or heart, thy Manufacture into no purchas- ing hand : tlu)u art no longer a circulating venous-arterial Heart, that, taking and giving, circulatest through all Space and all Time : there has a Hole fallen-out in the ORGANIC FILAMENTS. 223 immeasurable, universal World-tissue, which must be darned-up again ! " ' Such venous-arterial circulation, of Letters, verbal Messages, paper and other Packages, going out from him and coming in, are a blood-circulation, visible to 5 the eye : but the finer nervous circulation, by which all things, the minutest that he does, minutely influence all men, and the very look of his face blesses or curses whomso it lights on, and so generates ever new blessing or new cursing: all this you cannot see, but only imagine. 10 1 say, there is not a red Indian, hunting by Lake Winni- pic, can quarrel with his squaw, but the whole world must smart for it : will not the price of beaver rise ? It j is a mathematical fact that the casting of this pebble \ from my hand alters the centre of gravity of the Uni- 1(5 verse. ^ ' If now an existing generation of men stand so woven together, not less indissolubly does generation with generation. Hast thou ever meditated on that word, Tradition : how we inherit not Life only, but all the 20 garniture and form of Life ; and work, and speak, and even think and feel, as our Fathers, and primeval grand- fathers, from the beginning, have given it us? — Who printed thee, for example, this unpretending Volume on the Philosophy of Clothes ? Not the Herren Stillschwei- 25 gen and Company : but Cadmus of Thebes, Faust of Mentz, and innumerable others whom thou knowest not. Had there been no Moesogothic Ulfila, there had been no English Shakspeare, or a different one. Simpleton ! it was Tubalcain that made thy very Tailor's needle, and 30 sewed that court-suit of thine. ' Yes, truly, if Nature is one, and a living indivisible whole, much more .is Mankind, the Image that reflects and creates Nature, without which Nature were not. . . J SARTOK RESARTUS. As palpable life-streams in that wondrous Individual Mankind, among so many life-streams that are not palpable, How on those main-currents of what we call Opinion; as preserved in Institutions, Polities, Churches, •ovc all in Books. Beautiful it is to understand and know that a Thought did never yet die; that as thou, the originator thereof, hast gathered it and created it from the whole Past, so thou wilt transmit it to the whole Future. It is thus that the heroic heart, the seeing eye of the first times, still feels and sees in us of the latest ; that the Wise Man stands ever encom- passed, and spiritually embraced, by a cloud of witnesses and brothers; and there is a living, literal Covi7nu7Uon of Saints, wide as the World itself, and as the History nf the World. ' Noteworthy also, and serviceable for the progress of this same Individual, wilt thou find his subdivision into fenerations. Generations are as the Days of toilsome Mankind : Death and Birth are the vesper and the matin bells, that summon Mankind to sleep, and to rise re- freshed for new advancement. What the Father has made, the Son can make and enjoy ; but has also work of his own appointed him. Thus all things wax, and roll onwards; Arts, Establishments, Opinions, jipthing is completed, but ever completing. Newton has learned to see what Kepler saw; but there is also a fresh heaven- derived force in Newton; he must mount to still higher points of vision. So too the Hebrew Lawgiver is, in due time, followed by an Apostle of the Gentiles. In the business of Destruction, as this also is from time to time a necessary work, thou findest a Hke sequence and perseverance : for Luther it was as yet hot enough to stand by that burning of the Pope's Bull; Voltaire could not warm himself at the glimmering ashes, but required ORGANIC FILAMENTS. 225 * quite other fuel. Thus Ukewise, I note, the EngUsh Whig 'has, in the second generation, become an English Radi- 'cal; who, in the third again, it is to be hoped, will 'become an English Rebuilder. Find Mankind where ' thou wilt, thou findest it in living movement, in progress 5 ' faster or slower : the Phoenix soars aloft, hovers with ' outstretched wings, filling Earth with her music ; or, as ' now, she sinks, and with spheral swan-song immolates ' herself in flame, that she may soar the higher and sing ' the clearer.' 10 Let the friends of social order, in such a disastrous period, lay this to heart, and derive from it any little comfort they can. We subjoin another passage, con- cerning Titles : 'Remark, not without surprise,' says Teufelsdrockh, 15 how all high Titles of Honour come hitherto from Fight- ing. Your Herzog (Duke, Dux) is Leader of Armies ; your Earl {/arl) is Strong Man ; your Marshal, cavalry Horse-shoer. A Millennium, or reign of Peace and Wisdom, having from of old been prophesied, and be- 20 coming now daily more and more indubitable, may it not be apprehended that such Fighting-titles will cease to be palatable, and new and higher need to be devised ? 'The only Title wherein I, with confidence, trace eternity, is that of King. Konig (King), anciently 25 Konning, means Ken-ning (Cunning), or which is the same thing, Can-ning. Ever must the Sovereign of Mankind be fitly entitled King.' 'Well, also,' says he elsewhere, 'was it written by Theologians : a King rules by divine right. He carries 30 in him an authority from God, or man will never give it him. Can I choose my own King ? I can choose my own King Popinjay, and play what farce or tragedy I may with him : but he who is to be my Ruler, whose ^ 226 SAKTOK RESARTUS. ' will is to be higher lluin my will, was chosen for me in Heaven. Neither except in such Obedience to the Heaven-chosen is Freedom so much as conceivable.' The Fxiitor will here admit that, among all the won- 5 drous provinces of Teufelsdrockh's spiritual world, there is none he walks in with such astonishment, hesitation, and even pain, as in the Political. How, with our Fjigiish love of Ministry and Opposition, and that gen- erous conriict of Parties, mind warming itself against 10 mind in their mutual wrestle for the Public Good, by which wrestle, indeed, is our invaluable Constitution kept warm and alive ; how sh ill we domesticate ourselves in this spectral Necropolis, or rather City both of the Dead and of the rnborn, where the Present seems little other ^5 than an inconsiderable Film dividing the Past and the ' Future? in those dim longdrawn expanses, all is so immeasurable ; much so disastrous, ghastly ; your very radiances, and straggling light-beams, have a supernatural character. And then with such an indifference, such a 20 prophetic peacefulness (accounting the inevitably coming as already here, to him all one whether it be distant by centuries or only by days), does he sit; — and live, you would say, rather in any other age than in his own ! It is our painful duty to announce, or repeat, that, looking 25 into this man, we discern a deep, silent, slow-burning, inextinguishable Radicalism, such as fills us with shud- dering admiration. Thus, for example, he appears to make little even of the Elective Franchise ; at least so we interpret the fol- 30 lowing: 'Satisfy yourselves,' he says, 'by universal, in- ' dubitable experiment, even as ye are now doing or will 'do, whether Fkkf.dom, heavenborn and leadinii heaven- ward, and so vitally essential for us all, cannot per- ORGANIC FILAMENTS. 227 ' adventure be mechanically hatched and brought to light ' in that same Ballot-Box of yours ; or at worst in some ' other discoverable or devisable Box, Edifice, or Steam- ' mechanism. It were a mighty convenience ; and beyond ' all feats of manufacture witnessed hitherto.' Is Teufels- 5 drockh acquainted with the British Constitution, even slightly ? — He says, under another figure : ' But after ' all, were the problem, as indeed it now everywhere is, ' To rebuild your old House from the top downwards ' (since you must live in it the while), what better, what 10 ' other, than the Representative Machine will serve your ' turn ? M-eanwhile, however, mock me not with the name ' of Free, " when you have but knit-up my chains into 'ornamental festoons."' — Or what will any member of the Peace Society make of such an assertion as this: 15 ' The lower people everywhere desire War. Not so un- -7 'wisely; there is then a demand for lower people — to be ' shot ! ' Gladlj^therefore^-da we emerge from those soul-con- fusing labj/rinths of speculative Radicalism, into some- 20 what clearer regions. Here, looking round, as was our hest, for 'organic filaments,' we ask, may not this, touch- ing 'Hero-Worship,' be of the number? It seems of a cheerful character ; yet so quaint, so mystical, one knows not what, or how little, may lie under it. Our readers 25 shall look with their own eyes : \ 'True is it that, in these days, man can do almost all \ things, only not obey. True likewise that whoso cannot \ obey cannot be free, still less bear rule ; he that is the inferior of nothing, can be the superior of nothing, the 30 equal of nothing. Nevertheless, believe not that man has lost his faculty of Reverence ; that if it slumber in him, it has gone dead. Painful for man is that same rebellious Independence, when it has become inevitable ; .S. / A' 'WK RESAR TUS. 10 30 only in loving companionship with his fellows does he feel safe; only in reverently bowing down before the Higher does he feel himself exalted. • Or what if the character of our so troublous Era lay even in this: that man had forever cast away Fear, which is the lower ; but not yet risen into perennial Reverence, which is the higher and highest? ' Meanwhile, observe with joy, so cunningly has Nature ordered it, that whatsoever man ought to obey he cannot but obey. Before no faintest revelation of the Godlike did he ever stand irreverent; least of all, when the God- like showed itself revealed in his fellow-man. Thus is there a true religious Loyalty forever rooted in his heart ; nay, in all ages, even in ours, it manifests itself as a more or less orthodox Hero-worship. In which fact, that Hero-worship exists, has existed, and will forever e.xist, universally among Mankind, mayest thou discern I he corner-stone of living-rock, whereon all Polities for the remotest time may stand secure.' 1 )o our readers discern any such corner-stone, or even so much as what Teufelsdrockh is looking at? He ex- claims, ' Or hast thou forgotten Paris and Voltaire ? How the aged, withered man, though but a Sceptic, Mocker, and millinery Court-poet, yet because even he seemed the Wisest, Best, could drag mankind at his chariot- wheels, so that princes coveted a smile from him, and the loveliest of Prance would have laid their hair be- neath his feet ! All Paris was one vast Temple of Hero- worship ; though their Divinity, moreover, was of feature too apish. 'But if such things,' continues he, ' w'ere done in the dry tree, what will be done in the green? If, in the most parched season of Man's History, in the most parched spot of Europe, when Parisian life was at best ORGANIC FILAMENTS. 229 ' but a scientific Hortus Siccus, bedizened with some ' Italian Gumflowers, such virtue could come out of it ; ' what is to be looked for when life again waves leafy and ' bloomy, and your Hero-Divinity shall have nothing ape- ' like, but be wholly human ? Know that there is in man c ' a quite indestructible Reverence for whatsoever holds of ' Heaven, or even plausibly counterfeits such holding. ' Shew the dullest clodpole, shew the haughtiest feather- ' head, that a soul higher than himself is actually here ; 'were his knees stiffened into brass, he must down and 10 ' worship.' Organic filaments, of a more authentic sort, mysteri- ously spinning themselves, some will perhaps discover in the following passage : 'There is no Church, sayest thou? The voice of 15 ' Prophecy has gone dumb .'' This is even what I dis- ' pute : but, in any case, hast thou not still Preaching ' enough } A Preaching Friar settles himself in every ' village ; and builds a pulpit, which he calls Newspaper. 'Therefrom he preaches what most momentous doctrine 20 ' is in him, for man's salvation ; and dost not thou listen, ' and believe ? Look well, thou seest everywhere a new ' Clergy of the Mendicant Orders, some bare-footed, some ' almost bare-backed, fashion itself into shape, and teach ' and preach, zealously enough, for copper alms and the 25 'love of God. These break in pieces the ancient idols ; ' and, though themselves too often reprobate, as idol- ' breakers are wont to be, mark out the sites of new ' Churches, where the true God-ordained, that are to 'follow, may find audience, and minister. Said I not, 3c ' Before the old skin was shed, the new had formed itself ' beneath it t ' Perhaps also in the following ; wherewith we now hasten to knit-up this ravelled sleeve : 230 SARTUK Kh^AKI U:^. ' But there is no Religion ? ' reiterates the Professor. Fool ! I tell thee, there is. Hast thou well considered all that lies in this immeasurable froth-ocean we name Literature ? Fragments of a genuine Church-JIomi- letic lie scattered there, which Time will assort : nay fractions even of a Liturgy could I point out. And knowest thou no Prophet, even in the vesture, environ- ment, and dialect of this age ? None to whom the God- like had revealed itself, through all meanest and highest forms of the Common ; and by him been again pro- phetically revealed : in whose inspired melody, even in these rag-gathering and rag-burning days, Man's Life again begins, were it but afar off, to be divine ? Know- est thou none such .^ I know him, and name him — Goethe. ' Ikit thou as yet standest in no Temple ; joinest in no Psalm-worship ; feelest well that, where there is no ministering Priest, the people perish.^ Be of comfort! Thou art not alone, if thou have Faith. Spake we not of a Communion of Saints, unseen, yet not unreal, accompanying and brother-like embracing thee, so thou be worthy ? Their heroic Sufferings rise up melodiously together to Heaven, out of all lands, and out of all times, as a sacred Miserere; their heroic Actions also, as a boundless everlasting Psalm of Triumph. Neither say that thou hast now no Symbol of the Godlike. Is not God's Universe a Symbol of the Godlike ; is not Im- mensity a Temple ; is not Man's History, and Men's History, a perpetual Evangel? Listen, and for organ- music thou wilt ever, as of old, hear the Morning Stars sing together.' J^ATURAL SUPERNATtJRALISM. 231 CHAPTER Vni. NATURAL SUPERNATURALISM. It is in his stupendous Section, headed Natural Super- natui-alism^ that the Professor first becomes a Seer ; and, after long effort, such as we have witnessed, finally sub- dues under his feet this refractory Clothes-Philosophy, and takes victorious possession thereof. Phantasms 5 enough he has had to struggle with ; ' Cloth-webs and Cob-webs,' of Imperial Mantles, Superannuated Symbols, and what not : yet still did he courageously pierce through. Nay, worst of all, two quite mysterious, world-embracing Phantasms, Time and Space, have ever hovered round 10 him, perplexing and bewildering : but with these also he now resolutely grapples, these also he victoriously rends asunder. In a word, he has looked fixedly on Existence, till, one after the other, its earthly hulls and garnitures ,/ have all melted away; and now, to his rapt vision, the 15 interior celestial Holy of Holies lies disclosed. .>^Xvk ^Vt/^f f^- Here, therefore, properly it is that the Philosophy of Clothes attains to Transcendentalism; this last leap, can we but clear it, takes us safe into the promised land, where Palingenesia, in all senses, may be considered as 20 beginning. ' Courage, then ! ' may our Diogenes exclaim, with better right than Diogenes the First once did. This stupendous Section we, after long painful meditation, have found not to be unintelligible ; but, on the contrary, to be clear, nay radiant, and all-illuminating. Let the reader, 25 turning on it what utmost force of speculative intellect is in him, do his part ; as we, by judicious selection and adjustment, shall study to do ours : ' Deep has been, and is, the significance of Miracles,' thus quietly begins the Professor ; ' far deeper perhaps 30 SARTOR RESARTUS. than we imagine. Meanwhile, the question of questions were : What specially is a Miracle ? To that Dutch King of Siam, an icicle had been a miracle ; whoso had car- ried with him an air-pump and vial of vitriolic ether, might have worked a miracle. To my Horse, again, who unhappily is still more unscientific, do not I work a miracle, and magical "' OpeJi sesame."' every time I please to pay twopence, and open for him an impassable Schlag- baum, or shut Turnpike ? ' " But is not a real Miracle simply a violation of the Laws of Nature ? " ask several. Whom I answer by this new question : What are the Laws of Nature ? To me pjrhaps the rising of one from the dead were no viola- tion of these Laws, but a confirmation ; were some far deeper Law, now first penetrated into, and by Spiritual Force, even as the rest have all been, brought to bear on us with its Material Force. ' Here too may some inquire, not without astonishment : On what ground shall one, that can make Iron swim, come and declare that therefore he can teach Religion ? To us, truly, of the Nineteenth Century, such declara- tion were inept enough ; which nevertheless to our fathers, of the First Century, was full of meaning. ' " liut is it not the deepest Law of Nature that she be constant t " cries an illuminated class : " Is not the Ma- chine of the Universe fixed to move by unalterable rules ? " Probable enough, good friends : nay, I too, must believe that the God, whom ancient inspired men assert to be " without variableness or shadow of turn- ing," does indeed never change ; that Nature, that the Universe, which no one whom it so pleases can be prevented from calling a Machine, does move by the most unalterable rules. And now of you too I make the old inquiry: What those same unalterable rules, NATURAL SUPERNATURALISM. 233 'forming the complete Statute-Book of Nature, may ' possibly be ? 'They stand written in our Works of Science, say you; in the accumulated records of man's Experience ? — Was Man with his Experience present at the Creation, then, 5 to see how it all went on ? Have any deepest scientific individuals yet dived down to the foundations of the Universe, and gauged everything there ? Did the Maker take them into His counsel ; that they read His ground- plan of the incomprehensible All ; and can say, This 10 stands marked therein, and no more than this ? Alas ! not in anywise ! These scientific individuals have been i nowhere but where we also are ; have seen some hand- : breadths deeper than we see into the Deep that is infi- nite, without bottom as without shore. 15 ' Laplace's Book on the Stars, wherein he exhibits that certain Planets, with their Satellites, gyrate round our worthy Sun, at a rate and in a course, which, by greatest good fortune, he and the like of him have succeeded in detecting, — is to me as precious as to another. But is 20 this what thou namest " Mechanism of the Heavens," and " System of the World ; " this, wherein Sirius and the Pleiades, and all Herschel's Fifteen-thousand Suns per minute, being left out, some paltry handful of Moons, and inert Balls had been — looked at, nicknamed, and 25 marked in the Zodiacal Way-bill ; so that we can now prate of their Whereabout ; their How, their Why, their What, being hid from us, as in the signless Inane t ' System of Nature ! To the wisest man, wide as is his vision, Nature remains of quiteT/T/f;?//*? depth, of quite 30 infinite expansion ; and all Experience thereof limits itself to some few computed centuries, and measured square-miles. The course of Nature's phases, on this our little fraction of a Planet, is partially known to us : S A A' TOR RESARTUS. but who knows what deeper courses these depend on ; what infinitely larger Cycle (of causes) our little Epicycle revolves on ? To the Minnow every cranny and pebble, and (juality and accident, of its little native Creek may have become familiar : but does the Minnow understand the Ocean Tides and periodic Currents, the Trade- winds, and Monsoons, and Moon's Eclipses; by all which the condition of its little Creek is regulated, and may. from time to time (////miraculously enough), be quite overset and reversed ? Such a minnow is Man ; his Creek this Planet Earth ; his Ocean the immeasur- able All : his Monsoons and periodic Currents the mysterious Course of Providence through ^ons of /Kons. * We speak of the Volume of Nature : and truly a Vol- ume it is. — w hose Author and Writer is God. To read it! Dost thou, does man, so much as well know the Alphabet thereof? With its Words, Sentences, and grand descriptive Pages, poetical and philosophical, spread out through Solar Systems, and Thousands of Vears. we shall not try thee. It is a Volume written in celestial hieroglyphs, in the true Sacred-wTiting ; of which even Prophets are happy that they can read here a line and there a line. As for your Institutes, and Acade- mies of Science, they strive bravely ; and, from amid the thick-crowded, inextricably intertwisted hieroglyphic writing, pick out, by dextrous combination, some Letters in \he vulgar Character, and therefrom put together this and the other economic Recipe, of high avail in Practice. That Nature is more than some boundless Volume of such Recipes, or huge, well-nigh inexhaustible Domestic- Cookery Book, of which the whole secret will in this manner one day evolve itself, the few^est dream. 'Custom,' continues the Professor, 'doth makejlotards NATURAL SUPERNATURALISM. 235 of US all. Consider well, thou wilt find that Custom is the greatest of Weavers ; and weaves air-raiment for all the Spirits of the Universe : whereby indeed these dwell with us visibly, as ministering servants, in our houses and workshops ; but their spiritual nature becomes, to ^ the most, forever hidden. Philosophy complains that Custom has hoodwinked us, from the first ; that we do everything by Custom, even Believe by it ; that our very Axioms, let us boast of Free-thinking as we may, are ! oftenest simply such Beliefs as we have never heard 16 questioned. Nay, what is Philosophy throughout but a continual battle against Custom ; an ever-renewed effort to transcend the sphere of blind Custom, and so become Transcendental .^ ' Innumerable are the illusions and legerdemain-tricks 15 ^f Custom : but of all these perhaps the cleverest is her knack of persuading us that the Miraculous, by simple repetition, ceases to be Miraculous. True, it is by this means we live ; for man must work as well as wonder : and herein is Custom so far a kind nurse, guiding him 20 to his true benefit. But she is a fond foolish nurse, or rather we are false foolish nurslings, when, in our resting and reflecting hours, we prolong the same deception. Am I to view the Stupendous with stupid indifference, because I have seen it twice, or two-hundred, or two- 25 million times ? There is no reason in Nature or in Art why I should : unless, indeed, I am a mere Work- Machine, for whom the divine gift of Thought were no other than the terrestrial gift of Steam is to the Steam-engine ; a power whereby cotton might be spun, 30 and money and money's worth realised. * Notable enough too, here as elsewhere, wilt thou find the potency of Names ; which indeed are but one kind of such custom-woven, wonder-hiding Garments, Witch- 236 SAA'JVA' KESARTUS. craft, and all manner of Spectre-work, and Demonology, we have now named Madness, and Diseases of the Nerves. Seldom reflecting that still the new question comes upon us : What is Madness, what are Nerves ? Kver, as before, does Madness remain a mysterious- terrific, altogether infernal boiling-up of the Nether Chaotic Deep, through this fair-painted Vision of Crea- tion, which swims thereon, which we name the Real. Was Luther's Picture of the Devil less a Reality, whether it were formed within the bodily eye, or without it.' In every the wisest Soul lies a whole world of internal Madness, an authentic Demon- Empire ; out of which, indeed, his world of Wisdom has been creatively built tojrether, and now rests there, as on its dark foun- dations does a habitable flowery Earth-rind. * But deepest of all illusory Appearances, for hiding Wonder, as for many other ends, are your two grand fundamental world-enveloping Appearances, Space and TiMK. These, as spun and woven for us from before liirth itself, to clothe our celestial Me for dwelling here, and yet to blind it, — lie all-embracing, as the universal canvas, or warp and woof, whereby all minor Illusions, in this Phantasm Existence, weave and paint themselves. In vain, while here on Earth, shall you en- deavour to strip them off ; you can, at best, but rend them asunder for moments, and look through. ' Fortunatus had a wishing Hat, which when he put on, and wished himself Anywhere, behold he was There. Py this means had Fortunatus triumphed over Space, he had annihilated Space ; for him there was no Where, but all was Here. Were a Hatter to establish himself, in the Wahngasse of Weissnichtwo, and make felts of this sort for all mankind, what a world we should have of it : Siill stranger, should, on the opposite side of the NATURAL SUrERNATURALIS.^r. 237 Street, another Hatter establish himself ; and, as his fellow-craftsman made Space-annihilating Hats, make Time-annihilating ! Of both would I purchase, were it with my last groschen ; but chiefly of this latter. To clap-on your felt, and, simply by wishing that you were 5 Anyiahere, straightway to be There! Next to clap-on your other felt, and simply by wishing that you were hxi^when, and straightway to be Then ! This were in- deed the grander : shooting at will from the Fire-Crea- tion of the World to its Fire-Consummation ; here his- 10 torically present in the First Century, conversing face to face with Paul and Seneca ; there prophetically in the Thirty-first, conversing also face to face with other Pauls and Senecas, who as yet stand hidden in the depth of that late Time ! 15 ' Or thinkest thou, it were impossible, unimaginable ? *" Is the Past annihilated, then, or only past ; is the Future non-extant or only future ? Those mystic faculties of thine, Memory and Hope, already answer : already through those mystic avenues, thou the Earth-blinded 20 summonest both Past and Future, and communest with them, though as yet darkly, and with mute beckonings. The curtains of Yesterday drop down, the curtains of Tomorrow roll up ; but Yesterday and Tomorrow both are. Pierce through the Time-Element, glance into the 25 Eternal. Believe what thou findest written in the sanctuaries of Man's Soul, even as all Thinkers, in all [ ages, have devoutly read it there : that Time and Space are not God, but creations of God ; that with God as it is a universal Here, so it is an everlasting Now. 3^>v.^ *And seest thou therein any glimpse of Immortality? — O Heaven! Is the white Tomb of our Loved One, who died from our arms, and had to be left behind us there, which rises in the distance, like a pale, mourn- 23S rOK KESAKTUS. fully receding Milestone, to tell how many toilsome un- cheered miles we have journeyed on alone, — but a pale spectral Illusion! Is the lost Friend still mysteriously Here, even as we are Here mysteriously, with God ! — Know of a truth that only the Time-shadows have perished, or are perishable ; that the real Being of what-' ever was. and whatever is, and whatever will be, is even now and forever. This, should it unhappily seem new, thou mayst ponder at thy leisure ; for the next twenty years, or the next twenty centuries: believe it thou must ; understand it thou canst not. ' That the Thought-forms, Space and Time, wherein, once for all, we are sent into this Earth to live, should condition and determine our whole Practical reasonings, conceptions, and imagings or imaginings, — seems alto- gether fit, just, and unavoidable. But that they should, furthermore, usurp such sway over pure spiritual Medi- tation, and blind us to the wonder everywhere lying close on us, seems nowise so. Admit Space and Time to their due rank as Forms of Thought ; nay, even, if thou wilt, to their quite undue rank of Realities : and consider, then, with thyself how their thin disguises hide from us the brightest God-effulgences ! , Thus, were it not miraculous, could I stretch forth my hand, and clutch the Sun ? Yet thou seest me daily stretch forth my hand and therewith clutch many a thing, and swing it hither and thither. Art thou a grown baby, then, to fancy that the Miracle lies in miles of distance, or in pounds avoirdupois of weight ; and not to see that the true inexplicable God-revealing Miracle lies in this, that I can stretch forth my hand at aU ; that I have free Force to clutch aught therewith ? Innumerable other of this sort are the deceptions, and wonder-hiding stupe- factions, which Space practises on us. NATURAL SUPERNATURALISM. 239 ' Still worse is it with regard to Time. Your grand ' anti-magician, and universal wonder-hider, is this same Mying Time. Had we but the Time-annihilating Hat, ' to put on for once only, we should see ourselves in a * World of Miracles, wherein all fabled or authentic 5 ' Thaumaturgy, and feats of Magic, were outdone. But ' unhappily we have not such a Hat ; and man, poor fool * that he is, can seldom and scantily help himself without * one. 'Were it not wonderful, for instance, had Orpheus, or 10 ' Amphion, built the walls of Thebes by the mere sound ' of his Lyre ? Yet tell me. Who built these walls of ' W^eissnichtwo ; summoning out all the sandstone rocks, ' to dance along from the Steinbnich (now a huge Trog- ' lodyte Chasm, with frightful green-mantled pools) ; 1 5 ' and shape themselves into Doric and Ionic pillars, ' squared ashlar houses, and noble streets .-* Was it not ' the still higher Orpheus, or Orpheuses, who, in past 'centuries, by the divine Music of Wisdom, succeeded in ' civilising man ? Our highest Orpheus walked in Judea, 20 ' eighteen hundred years ago : his sphere-melody, flowing * in wild native tones, took captive the ravished souls of * men ; and, being of a truth sphere-melody, still flows ' and sounds, though now with thousandfold accompani- * ments, and rich symphonies, through all our hearts ; 25 * and modulates, and divinely leads them. Is that a ' wonder, which happens in two hours ; and does it cease ' to be wonderful if happening in two million t Not ' only was Thebes built by the music of an Orpheus ; but ' without the music of some inspired Orpheus was no city 30 * ever built, no work that man glories in ever done. ' Sweep away the Illusion of Time ; glance, if thou 'have eyes, from the near moving-cause to its far-distant ' Mover : The stroke that came transmitted through a 240 SA A' rOA' h'ESA A' TUS. whole gal ixy of elastic balls, was it less a stroke than if the last ball only had been struck, and sent flying? (), could I (with the Time-annihilating Hat) transport thee direct from the Beginnings to the Endings, how were thy eyesight unsealed, and thy heart set flaming in the Li'^ht-sea of celestial wonder ! Then sawest thou that this fair Universe, were it in the meanest province thereof, is in very deed the star-domed City of God; that through every star, through every grass-blade, and most through every Living Soul, the glory of a present ( ;od still beams. P.ut Nature, which is the Time-vest- ure of God, and reveals Him to the wise, hides Him from the foolish, ' Again, could anything be more miraculous than an actual authentic Ghost ? The English Johnson longed, all his life, to see one ; but could not, though he went to Cock Lane, and thence to the church-vaults, and tapped on coffins. Foolish Doctor ! Did he never, with the mind's eye as well as with the body's, look round him into that full tide of human Life he so loved ; did he never so much as look into Himself,'' The good Doc- tor was a Ghost, as actual and authentic as heart could wish ; well-nigh a million of Ghosts were travelling the streets by his side. Once more 1 say, sw-eep away the illusion of Time ; compress the threescore years into three minutes : what else w^as he, what else are we ? Are we not Spirits, that are shaped into a body, into an Appearance ; and that fade away again, into air and Invisibility? This is no metaphor, it is a simple, scien- tific /?f/.- we start out of Nothingness, take figure, _and are Apparitions; round us, as round the veriest spectre, is Eternity ; and to Eternity minutes are a s ye ars and xons. Come there not tones of Love and Fiiith, a.'ijjl^rn celestial harp-strings, Tike the Song of beatifLejd -Souls ? NATURAL SUPEKNAl'URALISM. 241 And again, do not we squeak and gibber (in our dis- cordant, screech-owlish debatings and recriminatings) ; and gUde bodeful and feeble, and fearful ; or uproar {poltcni), and revel in our mad Dance of the Dead, till the scent of the morning-air summons us to our still 5 Home ; and dreamy Night becomes awake and Day ? Where now is Alexander of Macedon : does the steel Host, that yelled in fierce battle-shouts at Issus and Arbela, remain behind him ; or have they all vanished utterly, even as perturbed Goblins must ? Napoleon too, ic and his Moscow Retreats and Austerlitz Campaigns ! Was it all other than the veriest Spectre-hunt ; which has now, with its howling tumult that made night hideous, flitted away ? — Ghosts ! There are nigh a thousand- million walking the Earth openly at noontide ; some half- 15 hundred have vanished from it, some half-hundred have arisen in it, ere thy watch ticks once. ' O Heaven, it is mysterious, it is awful to consider that we not only carry each a future Ghost within him ; but are, in very deed, Ghosts ! These Limbs, whence 20 had we them ; this stormy Force ; this life-blood with its burning Passion ? They are dust and shadow ; a Shadow-system gathered round our Me ; wherein through some moments or years, the Divine Essence is to be re- vealed in the Flesh. I That warrior on his strong war- 25 v horse, fire flashes through his eyes ; force dwells in his f arm and heart ; but warrior and war-horse are a vision ; a revealed Force, nothing more. Stately they tread the Earth, as if it were a firm substance : fool ! the Earth is I but a film ; it cracks in twain, and warrior and war-horse 30 ! sink beyond plummet's sounding. Plummet's.'' Fantasy herself will not follow them. A little while ago they were not ; a little while, and they are not, their very ashes ^ are not. 10 '5 20 SAKTOR RESARTUS. ' So it has been from the beginning, so will it be to the ml. (feneration after generation takes to itself the Form of a Body; and forth-issuing from Cimnferian Night, on Heaven's mission appears. What Force and Fire is in each he expends : one grinding in the mill of Industry; one hunter-like climbing the giddy Alpine lieights of Science ; one madly dashed in pieces on the rocks of Strife, in war with his fellow: — and then the Heaven-sent is recalled; his earthly Vesture falls away, and soon even to Sense becomes a vanished Shadow. Tluis, like some wild-flaming, wild-thundering train, of Heaven's Artillery, does this mysterious Mankind thunder and flame, in long-drawn, quick-succeeding grandeur, through the unknown Deep. Thus, like a God-created, fire-breathing Spirit-host, we emerge from the Inane ; haste stormfully across the astonished Earth ; then plunge again into the Inane. Earth's mountains are levelled, and her seas filled up, in our passage : can the Earth, which is but dead and a vision, resist Spirits which have reality and are alive ? On the hardest adamant some foot-print of us is stamped-in ; the last Rear of the host will read traces of the earliest Van. But whence ? — O Heaven, whither ? Sense knows not ; Faith knows not ; only that it is through Mystery to Mystery, from God and to God. " We art' such stuff ' As Dreams are made on, and our little Life Is rounded with a sleep ! " ' CIRCUMSPECTIVE. 243 CHAPTER IX. CIRCUMSPECTIVE. Here, then, arises the so momentous question : Have many British Readers actually arrived with us at the new promised country ; is the Philosophy of Clothes now at last opening around them ? Long and adventurous has the journey been : from those outmost vulgar, palpable 5 Woollen Hulls of Man ; through his wondrous Flesh- Garments, and his wondrous Social Garnitures ; inwards to the Garments of his very Soul's Soul, to Time and Space- themselves ! And now does the spiritual, eternal Essence of Man, and of Mankind, bared of such wrap- 10 pages, begin in any measure to reveal itself ? Can many readers discern, as through a glass darkly, in huge waver- ing outlines, some primeval rudiments of Man's Being, what is changeable divided from what is unchangeable ? Does that Earth-Spirit's speech in Faust ^ — 15 'Tis thus at the roaring Loom of Time I ply, r- 'And weave for God the Garment thou see'st Him by;' or that other thousand-times repeated speech of the Magician, Shakspeare, — ' And like the baseless fabric of this vision, ^° ' The cloudcapt Towers, the gorgeous Palaces, ' The solemn Temples, the great Globe itself, ' And all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; ' And like this unsubstantial pageant faded, ' Leave not a wrack behind ; ' 25 begin to have some meaning for us ? In a word, do we at length stand safe in the far region of Poetic Creation and Palingenesia, where that Phoenix Death-Birth of Human Society, and of all Human Things, appears possi- ble, is seen to be inevitable ? 3° SARTOR RESARTUS. - 44 Along this most insufficient, unheard-of Bridge, which the Editor, by Heaven's blessing, has now seen himself enabled to conclude if not complete, it cannot be his sober calculation, but only his fond hope, that many have . travelled without accident. No firm arch, overspanning the Impassable with paved highway, could the Editor con- struct ; only, as was said, some zigzag series of rafts float- ing tumultuously thereon. Alas, and the leaps from raft to raft were too often of a breakneck character ; the dark- 10 ness, the nature of the element, all was against us ! xVevertheless, may not here and there one of a thousand, provided with a discursiveness of intellect rare in our day, have cleared the .passage, in spite of all.? Happy few ! little band of Friends ! be welcome, be of courage. By 15 degrees, the eye grows accustomed to its new Where- about ; the hand can stretch itself forth to work there : it is in this grand and indeed highest work of Palingenesia that ye shall labour, each according to ability. New labourers will arrive ; new Bridges will be built ; nay, ^o may not our own poor rope-and-raft Bridge, in your pass- ings and repassings, be mended in many a point, till it grow quite firm, passable even for the halt ? Meanwhile, of the innumerable multitude that started with us, joyous and full of hope, where now is the in- 25 numerable remainder, whom we see no longer by our side .'' The most have recoiled, and stand gazing afar off, in unsympathetic astonishment, at our career : not a few, pressing forward with more courage, have missed footing, or leaped short ; and now swim weltering in the Chaos- 30 flood, some towards this shore, some towards that. To these also a helping-hand should be held out ; at least some word of encouragement be said. Or, to speak without metaphor, with which mode of utterance Teufelsdrockh unhappily has somewhat infected CIRCUMSPECTIVE. 245 us, — can it be hidden from the Editor that many a Brit- ish Reader sits reading quite bewildered in head, and afflicted rather than instructed by the present Work? Yes, long ago has many a British Reader been, as now, demanding, with something like a snarl : Whereto does 5 all this lead ; or what use is in it ? In the way of replenishing thy purse, or otherwise aid- ing thy digestive faculty, O British Reader, it leads to nothing, and there is no use in it ; but rather the reverse, for it costs thee somewhat. Nevertheless, if through this 10 unpromising Horn-gate, Teufelsdrockh, and we by means of him, have led thee into the true Land of Dreams ; and through the Clothes-Screen, as through a magical Pierre- Feriuis, thou lookest, even for moments, into the region of the Wonderful, and seest and f eelest that thy daily life 1 5 is girt with Wonder, and based on Wonder, and thy very blankets and breeches are Miracles, — then art thou profited beyond money's worth ; and hast a thankfulness towards our Professor ; nay, perhaps in many a literary Tea-circle wilt open thy kind lips, and audibly express 20 that same. Nay, farther, art not thou too perhaps by this time | made aware that all Symbols are properly Clothes ; that i all Forms whereby Spirit manifests itself to sense, | whether outwardly or in the imagination, are Clothes ; 25 ; and thus not only the parchment Magna Charta, which a Tailor was nigh cutting into measures, but the Pomp and Authority of Law, the sacredness of Majesty, and all inferior Worships (Worthships) are properly a Vesture and Raiment ; and the Thirty-nine Articles themselves are articles of wearing-apparel (for the Religious Idea) 1 In which case, must it not also be admitted that this Science of Clothes is a high one, and may with infinitely deeper study on thy part yield richer fruit : that it takes .^^ SAKTOR KESARTC/S. scientific rank beside Codification, and Political Economy, and the theory of the British Constitution ; nay, rather, from its prophetic height looks down on all these, as on so many weaving-shops and spinning-mills, where the 5 Vestures which // has to fashion, and consecrate, and distribute, are, too often by haggard hungry operatives who si.'e no farther than their nose, mechanically v/oven and spun ? But omitting all this, much more all that concerns lo Natural Supernaturalism, and indeed whatever has refer- ence to the Ulterior or Transcendental Portion of the Science, or bears never so remotely on that promised Volume of the Palingenesie der fiwischlichen Gesellschaft (Newbirth of Society), — we humbly suggest that no 15 province of Clothes-Philosophy, even the lowest, is with- out its direct value, but that innumerable inferences of a practical nature may be drawn therefrom. To say noth- ing of those pregnant considerations, ethical, political, symbolical, which crowd on the Clothes-Philosopher from 20 the very threshold of his Science ; nothing even of those ' arcliitectural ideas ' which, as we have seen, lurk at the bottom of all Modes, and will one day, better unfolding themselves, lead to important revolutions, — let us glance for a moment, and with the faintest light of Clothes- :;5 Philosoi)liy, on what may be called the Habilatory Class of our fellow-men. Here too overlooking, where so much were to be looked on, the million spinners, weavers, fullers, dyers, washers, and wringers, that puddle and muddle in their dark recesses, to make us Clothes, and 30 die that we may live, — let us but turn the reader's atten- tion upon two small divisions of mankind, who, like moths, may be regarded as Cloth-animals, creatures that live, move and have their being in Cloth : we mean, Dandies and Tailors. THE DANDIACAL BODY. 247 In regard to both which small divisions it may be as- serted, without scruple, that the public feeling, unen- lightened by Philosophy, is at fault ; and even that the dictates of humanity are violated. As will perhaps abun- dantly appear to readers of the two following Chapters. CHAPTER X. THE DANDIACAL BODY. First, touching Dandies, let us consider, with some scientific strictness, what a Dandy specially is. A Dandy is a Clothes-wearing man, a Man whose trade, office and existence consists in the wearing of Clothes. Every faculty of his soul, spirit, purse and person is heroically 10 consecrated to this one object, the wearing of Clothes wisely and well : so that as others dress to live, he lives to dress. The all-importance of Clothes, which a German Professor, of unequalled learning and acumen, writes his enormous Volume to demonstrate, has sprung up in the 15 intellect of the Dandy, without effort, like an instinct of genius ; he is inspired with Cloth, a Poet of Cloth. What Teufelsdrockh would call a ' Divine Idea of Cloth ' is born with him ; and this, like other such Ideas, will ex- press itself outwardly, or wring his heart asunder with 20 unutterable throes. But, like a generous, creative enthusiast, he fearlessly makes his Idea an^Action ; shews himself in peculiar guise to mankind ; walks forth, a witness and living Martyr to the eternal Worth of Clothes. We call him a 25 Poet : is not his body the (stuffed) parchment-skin where- ■^nTIie writes, with cunning Huddersfield dyes, a Sonnet ^^^ SJA'TOA' RESAKTUS. to his mistress' eyebrow? Say, rather, an Epos, and Chtha Virumqiu- cano, to the whole world, in Macaronic %'crses, which he that runs may read. Nay, if you grant, what seems to be admissible, that the Dandy has a Think- 5 ing-principie in him, and some notions of Time and Space, is there not in this Life-devotedness to Cloth, in this so willing sacrifice of the Immortal to the Perishable, something (though in reverse order) of that blending and identification of Eternity \\\\\\ Time, which as we have lo seen, constitutes the Prophetic character ? And now, for all this perennial Martyrdom, and Poesy, and even Prophecy, what is it that the Dandy asks in return ? Solely, we may say, that you would recognise his existence ; would admit him to be a living object ; or 15 even failing this, a visual object, or thing that will reflect rays of light. Your silver or your gold (beyond what the niggardly Law has already secured him) he solicits not ; simply the glance of your eyes. Understand his mystic significance, or altogether miss and misinterpret it ; do 20 but look at him, and he is contented. May we not well cry shame on an ungrateful world, which refuses even this poor boon ; which will w^aste its optic faculty on dried Crocodiles, and Siamese Twins ; and over the domestic wonderful wonder of wonders, a live Dandy, 25 glance with hasty indifference, and a scarcely concealed contempt ! Him no Zoologist classes among the Mam- malia, no Anatomist dissects with care : when did we see any injected Preparation of the Dandy in our Museums ; any specimen of him preserved in spirits ? Lord Her- 30 ringbone may dress himself in a snuff-brown suit, with snuff-brown shirt and shoes : it skills not ; the undis- cerning public, occupied with grosser wants, passes by regardless on the other side. The age of Curiosity, like that of Chivalry, is indeed. • THE DANDIACAL BODY. 249 properly speaking, gone. Yet perhaps only gone to sleep : for here arises the Clothes-Philosophy to resusci- tate, strangely enough, both the one and the other ! Should sound views of this Science come to prevail, the essential nature of the British Dandy, and the mystic 5 significance that lies in him, cannot always remain hidden under laughable and lamentable hallucination. The fol- lowing long Extract from Professor Teufelsdrockh may set the matter, if not in its true light, yet in the way towards such. It is to be regretted, however, that here, 10 as so often elsewhere, the Professor's keen philosophic perspicacity is somewhat marred by a certain mixture of almost owlish purblindness, or else of some perverse, in- effectual, ironic tendency ; our readers shall judge which : 'In these distracted times,' writes he, 'when the Reli- 15 gious Principle, driven out of most Churches, either lies >^ unseen in the hearts of good men, looking and longing and silently working there towards some new Revela- tion ; or else wanders homeless over the world, like a disembodied soul seeking its terrestrial organisation, — 20 into how many strange shapes, of Superstition and Fanaticism, does it not tentatively and errantly cast itself ! The higher Enthusiasm of man's nature is for the while without Exponent ; yet does it continue inde- structible, unweariedly active, and work blindly in the 25 great chaotic deep : thus Sect after Sect, and Church after Church, bodies itself forth, and melts again into new metamorphosis. ' Chiefly is this observable in England, which, as the wealthiest and worst-instructed of European nations, 30 offers precisely the elements (of Heat, namely, and of Darkness), in which such moon-calves and monstrosities are best generated. Among the newer Sects of that SAKTOK KESARTUS. ''country, one of the most notable, and closely connected with our present subject, is that of the Da?idies ; con- cerning which, what little information I have been able to procure may fitly stand here. • It is true, certain of the English Journalists, men gen- erally without sense for the Religious Principle, or judg- ment for its manifestations, speak, in their brief enigmatic notices, as if this were perhaps rather a Secular Sect, and not a Religious one ; nevertheless, to the psycho- lo^-ic eye its devotional and even sacrificial character plainly enough reveals itself. Whether it belongs to the class of Fetish-worships, or of Hero-worships or Poly- theisms, or to what other class, may in the present state of our intelligence remain undecided {schivebeti). A certain touch of Manicheism, not indeed in the Gnostic shape, is discernible enough : also (for human Error walks in a cycle, and reappears at intervals) a not-in- considerable resemblance to that Superstition of the Athos Monks, who by fasting from all nourishment, and looking intensely for a length of time into their ow^n navels, came to discern therein the true Apocalypse of Nature, and Heaven Unveiled. To my own surmise, it appears as if this Dandiacal Sect were but a new modi- fication, adapted to the new time, of that primeval Super- stition, Self -7oor ship ; which Zerdusht, Quangfoutchee, Mohamed, and others, strove rather to subordinate and restrain than to eradicate ; and which only in the purer forms of Religion has been altogether rejected. Where- fore, if any one chooses to name it revived Ahrimanism, or a new figure of Demon-Worship, I have, so far as is yet visible, no objection, ' For the rest, these people, animated with the zeal of a new Sect, display courage and perseverance, and what force there is in man's nature, though never so enslaved. THE DANDIACAL BODY. 251 ' They affect great purity and separatism ; distinguish ' themselves by a particular costume (whereof some ' notices were given in the earlier part of this Volume); ' likewise, so far as possible, by a particular speech (ap- ' parently some broken Lingua-franca^ or English-French) ; 5 ' and, on the whole, strive to maintain a true Nazarene ' deportment, and keep themselves unspotted from the * world. ' They have their Temples, whereof the chief, as the ' Jewish Temple did, stands in their metropolis ; and is 10 ' named Abnack's^ a word of uncertain etymology. They ' worship principally by night ; and have their Highpriests * and Highpriestesses, who, however, do not continue for * life. The rites, by some supposed to be of the Menadic * sort, or perhaps with an Eleusinian or Cabiric character, 15 * are held strictly secret. Nor are Sacred Books wanting * to the Sect ; these they call Fashionable Novels : how- ' ever, the Canon is not completed, and some are canon- ' ical and others not. ' Of such Sacred Books I, not without expense, procured 20 ' myself some samples ; and in hope of true insight, and ' with the zeal which beseems an Inquirer into Clothes, ' set to interpret and study them. But wholly to no pur- * pose : that tough faculty of reading, for which the world ' will not refuse me credit, was here for the first time 25 ' foiled and set at naught. In vain that I summoned my * whole energies {inich weidlich anstrengte)^ and did my ' very utmost ; at the end of some short space, I was uni- ' formly seized with not so much what I can call a drum- * ming in my ears, as a kind of infinite, unsufferable, 30 ' Jews-harping and scrannel-piping there ; to which the ' frightfullest species of Magnetic Sleep soon supervened; ' And if I strove to shake this away, and absolutely would ' not yield, came a hitherto unfelt sensation, as of Deliri- SARTOK RESARTrS. um Trenuns, and a melting into total deliquium ; till at last, by order of the Doctor, dreading ruin to my whole intellectual and bodily faculties, and a general breaking- up of the constitution, I reluctantly but determinedly forbore. Was there some miracle at work here; like those Fire-balls, and supernal and infernal prodigies, which, in the case of the Jewish Mysteries, have also more than once scared-back the Alien ? Be this as it may, such failure on my part, after best efforts, must excuse the imperfection of this sketch : altogether in- complete, yet the completest I could give of a Sect top singular to be omitted. ' Loving my own life and senses as I do. no power shall induce me, as a private individual, to open another Fashionable Novel. But luckily, in this dilemma, comes a hand from the clouds ; whereby if not victory, deliver- ance is held out to me. Round one of those Book-pack- ages, which the StillschweigetC sche Buchhaiidlung is in the habit of importing from England, come, as is usual, various waste printed-sheets (^Maeuhitin'-bldtter'), by way of interior wrappage: into these the Clothes-Philosopher, with a certain Mohamedan reverence even for waste- paper, where curious knowledge will sometimes hover, disdains not to cast his eye. Readers may judge of his astonishment when on such a defaced stray-sheet, prob- ably the outcast fraction of some English Periodical, such as they name Magazine, appears something like a Dissertation on this very subject of Fashionable Novels ! it sets out, indeed, chiefly from the Secular point of view ; directing itself, not without asperity, against some to me unknown individual, named Pelham, who seems to be a Mystagogue, and leading Teacher and Preacher of the Sect ; so that, what indeed otherwise was not to be expected in such a fugitive fragmentary sheet, the THE DANDIACAL BODY. 253 true secret, the Religious physiognomy and physiology of the Dandiacal Body, is nowise laid fully open there. Nevertheless, scattered lights do from time to time sparkle out, whereby I have endeavoured to profit. Nay, in one passage selected from the Prophecies, or Mythic 5 Theogonies, or whatever they are (for the style seems very mixed) of this Mystagogue, I find what appears to be a Confession of Faith, or Whole Duty of Man, ac- cording to the tenets of that Sect. Which Confession or Whole Duty, therefore, as proceeding from a source 10 so authentic, I shall here arrange under Seven distinct Articles, and in very abridged shape lay before the Ger- man world ; therewith taking leave of this matter. Ob- serve also, that to avoid possibility of error, I, as far as may be, quote literally from the Original : 15 ' ARTICLES OF FAITH. " I. Coats should have nothing of the triangle about ' them ; at the same time, wrinkles behind should be care- ' fully avoided. " 2. The collar is a very important point : it should be ' low behind, and slightly rolled. 20 "3. No license of fashion can allow a man of delicate ' taste to adopt the posterial luxuriance of a Hottentot. " 4. There is safety in a swallow-tail. " 5. The good sense of a gentleman is nowhere more 'finely developed than in his rings. -5 '^ 6. It is permitted to mankind, under certain restric- ' tions, to wear white waistcoats. " 7. The trousers must be exceedingly tight across the 'hips." ' All which Propositions I, for the present, content 3° ' myself with modestly but peremptorily and irrevocably ' denying. ^.^ SAKTOR RESARTUS. ' In strange contrast with this Dandiacal Body stands another British Sect, originally, as I understand, of Ire- land, where its chief seat still is ; but known also in the main Island, and indeed everywhere rapidly spreading. As this Sect has hitherto emitted no Canonical Books, it remains to me in the same state of obscurity as the Dandiacal, which has published Books that the unas- sisted human faculties are inadequate to read. The members appear to be designated by a considerable diversity of names, according to their various places of establishment : in England they are generally called the />///4r Sect ; also, un philosophically enough, the White Negroes; and, chielly in scorn by those of other com- munions, the /lagged- Beggar Sect. In Scotland, again, I find them entitled HaUanshakcj's, or the Stook of Duds Sect; any individual communicant is named Stook of Duds (that is, Shock of Rags), in allusion, doubtless, to their professional Costume. While in Ireland, which, as mentioned, is their grand parent hive, they go by a perplexing multiplicity of designations, such as Bog- trotters, Kedshanks, Ribbonmcn, Cottiers, Peep-of-Day Boys, Babes in the Wood, Roekites, Poor- Slaves : which last, however, seems to be the primary and generic name ; whereto, probably enough, the others are only subsidiary species, or slight varieties ; or, at most, propagated off- sets from the parent stem, whose minute subdivisions, and shades of difference, it were here loss of time to dwell on. Enough for us to understand, what seems indubitable, that the original Sect is that of the Poor- Slaves ; whose doctrines, practices, and fundamental characteristics pervade and animate the whole Body, howsoever denominated or outwardly diversified. ' The precise speculative tenets of this Brother- hood : 'k'u tlie Universe, and Man, and Man's Life, THE DANDIACAL BODY. 25c ' picture themselves to the mind of an Irish Poor-Slave ; ' with what feelings and opinions he looks forward on ' the Future, round on the Present, back on the Past, it ' were extremely difficult to specify. Something Monastic ' there appears to be in their Constitution : we find them 5 ' bound by the two Monastic Vows, of Poverty, and Obe- * dience ; which Vows, especially the former, it is said, ' they observe with great strictness ; nay, as I have un- ' derstood it, they are pledged, and be it by any solemn * Nazarene ordination or not, irrevocably consecrated 10 * thereto, even bcfoj-e birth. That the third Monastic ' Vow, of Chastity, is rigidly enforced among them, I find ' no ground to conjecture. ' Furthermore, they appear to imitate the Dandiacal 'Sect in their grand principle of wearing a peculiar 15 * Costume. Of which Irish Poor-Slave Costume no de- ' scription will indeed be found in the present Volume ; ' for this reason, that by the imperfect organ of Language ' it did not seem describable. Their raiment consists of ' innumerable skirts, lappets, and irregular wings, of all 20 * cloths and of all colours ; through the labyrinthic intri- ' cacies of which their bodies are introduced by some un- ' known process. It is fastened together by a multiple ' combination of buttons, thrums and skewers ; to which 'frequently is added a girdle of leather, of hempen or 25 ' even of straw rope, round the loins. To straw rope, in- ' deed, they seem partial, and often wear it by way of ' sandals. In head-dress they affect a certain freedom ; ' hats with partial brim, without crown, or with only a ' loose, hinged, or valved crown ; in the former case, they 30 ' sometimes invert the hat, and wear it brim uppermost, ' like a University-cap, with what view is unknown. ' The name Poor-Slaves, seems to indicate a Slavonic, ' Polish, or Russian origin : not so, however, the interior I ,,^ SAAJ'OK A'/uS.lA'rrS. essence and spirit of their Superstition, which rather displays a Teutonic or Druidical character. One might fancy them worshippers of Hertha, or the Earth: for they dig and affectionately work continually in her bosom : or else, shut-up in private Oratories, meditate and manipulate the substances derived from her; sel- dom lookinj;-up towards the Heavenly Luminaries, and then with comparative indifference. Like the Druids, ou the other hand, they live in dark dwellings ; often even breaking their glass-windows, where they find such, and stuffing them up with pieces of raiment, or other opaque substances, till the fit obscurity is restored. Again, like all followers of Nature-Worship, they are liable to outbreakings of an enthusiasm rising to feroc- ity ; and burn men, if not in wicker idols, yet in sod cottages. ' In respect of diet, they have also their observances. All Poor-Slaves are Rhizophagous (or Root-eaters); a few are Ichthyophagous, and use Salted Herrings : other animal food they abstain from; except indeed, with perhaps some strange inverted fragment of a Brah- minical feeling, such animals as die a natural death. Their universal sustenance is the root named Potato, cooked by fire alone ; and generally without condiment or relish of any kind, save an unknown condiment named Point, into the meaning of w^hich I have vainly inquired ; the victual Potatocs-and- Point not appearing, at least not with specific accuracy of description, in any European Cookery-Book whatever. For drink, they use, with an almost epigrammatic counterpoise of taste, Milk, which is the mildest of liquors, and Potheen, which is the fiercest. This latter I have tasted, as well as the English Blue-Ruin, and the Scotch Whisky, anal- ogous fiuids used bv the Sect in those countries : it evi- THE DANDIACAL BODY. 2c;7 dently contains some form of alcohol, in the highest state of concentration, though disguised with acrid oils : and is, on the whole, the most pungent substance known to me, — indeed, a perfect liquid fire. In all their Re- ligious Solemnities, Potheen is said to be an indispensa- 5 ble requisite, and largely consumed. 'An Irish Traveller, of perhaps common veracity, who presents himself under the to me unmeaning title of The late Joint Bernard., offers the following sketch of a do- mestic establishment, the inmates whereof, though such 10 is not stated expressly, appear to have been of that Faith. Thereby shall my German readers now behold an Irish Poor-Slave, as it were with their own eyes ; and even see him at meat. Moreover, in the so precious waste-paper sheet above mentioned, I have found some 15 corresponding picture of a Dandiacal Household, painted by that same Dandiacal Mystagogue, or Theogonist : this also, by way of counterpart and contrast, the world shall look into. ' First, therefore, of the Poor-Slave, who appears like- 20 wise to have been a species of Innkeeper. I quote from the original : POOR-SLAVE HOUSEHOLD. " The furniture of this Caravansera consisted of a large iron Pot, two oaken Tables, two Benches, two Chairs, and a Potheen Noggin. There was a loft above 25 (attainable by a ladder), upon which the inmates slept ; and the space below was divided by a hurdle into two Apartments ; the one for their cow and pig, the other for themselves and guests. On entering the house we discov- ered the family, eleven in number, at dinner : the father 3° sitting at the top, the mother at the bottom, the children on each side, of a large oaken Board which was scooped-out ;-8 SARTOR RESARTUS. in the middle, like a Trough, to receive the contents of their Pot of Potatoes. Little holes were cut at equal dis- tance to contain Salt ; and a bowl of Milk stood on the table : all the luxuries of meat and beer, bread, knives and dishes were dispensed with." The Poor-Slave him- self our Traveller found, as he says, broad-backed, black- browed, of great personal strength, and mouth from ear to ear. His Wife was a sun-browned but well-featured woman ; and his young ones, bare and chubby, had lo ■ the appetite of ravens. Of their Philosophical or Relig- ious tenets or observances, no notice or hint. ' Put now, secondly, of the Dandiacal Household; in which, truly, that often-mentioned Mystagogue and in- spired Penman himself has his abode: DANDIACAL HOUSEHOLD. 15 "A Dressing-room splendidly furnished ; violet-coloured ' curtains, chairs and ottomans of the same hue. Two full- * length Mirrors are placed, one on each side of a table, ' which supports the luxuries of the Toilet. Several Bottles ' of Perfumes, arranged in a peculiar fashion, stand upon 20 ' a smaller table of mother-of-pearl : opposite to these are * placed the appurtenances of Lavation richly wrought in ' frosted silver. A Wardrobe of Buhl is on the left ; the ' doors of which, being partly open, discover a profusion ' of Clothes ; Shoes of a singularly small size monopolise 25 ' the lower shelves. Fronting the wardrobe a door ajar 'gives some slight glimpse of a Bath-room. Folding- * doors in the background. — Enter the Author," our ' Theogonist in person, " obsequiously preceded by a ' French Valet, in white silk Jacket and cambric Apron." 30 ' Such are the two Sects which, at this moment, divide ' the more unsettled portion of the British People ; and THE DANDIACAL BODY. 259 agitate that ever-vexed country. To the eye of the political Seer, their mutual relation, pregnant with the elements of discord and hostility, is far from consoling. These two principles of Dandiacal Self-worship or Demon-worship, and Poor-Slavish or Drudgical Earth- 5 worship, or whatever that same Drudgism may be, do as yet indeed manifest themselves under distant and nowise considerable shapes : nevertheless, in their roots and subterranean ramifications, they extend through the entire structure of Society, and work unweariedly in the 10 secret depths of English national Existence ; striving to separate and isolate it into two contradictory, uncommu- nicating masses. ' In numbers, and even individual strength, the Poor- Slaves or Drudges, it would seem, are hourly increasing. 15 The Dandiacal, again, is by nature no proselytising Sect ; but it boasts of great hereditary resources, and is strong by union ; whereas the Drudges, split into parties, have as yet no rallying-point ; or at best, only cooperate by means of partial secret affiliations. If, 20 indeed, there were to arise a Co77imunio7i of Drudges, as there is already a Communion of Saints, what strangest effects would follow therefrom ! Dandyism as yet affects to look-down on Drudgism : but per- haps the hour of trial, when it will be practically seen 25 which ought to look down, and which up, is not so dis- tant. ' To me it seems probable that the two Sects will one day part England between them ; each recruiting itself from the intermediate ranks, till there be none left to 30 enlist on either side. Those Dandiacal Manicheans, with the host of Dandyising Christians, will form one body : the Drudges, gathering round them whosoever is Drudgical, be he Christian or Infidel Pagan ; sweeping 26o SAKTOA' KESARTl/S. up likewise all manner of Utilitarians, Radicals, refrac- tory Potwallopers, and so forth, into their general mass, will form another. I could liken Dandyism and Drudg- ism to two bottomless boiling Whirlpools that had broken- out on opposite quarters of the firm land : as yet they appear only disquieted, foolishly bubbling wells, which man's art might cover-in ; yet mark them, their diameter is daily widening ; they are hollow Cones that boil-up from the infinite Deep, over which your firm land is but a thin crust or rind ! Thus daily is the intermediate land crumbling-in, daily the empire of the two Buchan- liullers extending ; till now there is but a foot-plank, a mere film of Land between them ; this too is washed away : and then — we have the true Hell of Waters, and Noah's Deluge is outdeluged ! 'Or better, I might call them two boundless, and in- deed unexampled Electric Machines (turned by the " Machinery of Society "), with batteries of opposite quality; Drudgism the Negative, Dandyism the Posi- tive: one attracts hourly towards it and appropliates all the Positive Electricity of the Nation (namely, the Money thereof) ; the other is equally busy with the Negative (that is to say the Hunger), which is equally potent. Hither- to you see only partial transient sparkles and sputters ; but wait a little, till the entire nation is in an electric state ; till your whole vital Electricity, no longer health- fully Neutral, is cut into two isolated portions of Posi- tive and Negative (of Money and of Hunger); and stands there bottled-up in two World-Batteries ! The stirring of a child's finger brings the two together; and then — What then .' The Earth is but shivered into impalpable smoke by that Doom's-thunderpeal ; the Sun misses one of his Planets in Space, and thenceforth there are no eclipses of the Moon. — Or better still, I might liken' TAILORS. 261 O, enough, enough of hkenings and simiUtudes ; in excess of which, truly, it is hard to say whether Teufels- drockh or ourselves sin the more. We have often blamed him for a habit of wire-drawins: and over-refining; from of old we have been familiar with 5 his tendency to Mysticism and Religiosity, whereby in every thing he was still scenting-out Religion : but never perhaps did these amaurosis-suffusions so cloud and dis- tort his otherwise most piercing vision, as in this of the Dandiacal Body I Or was there something of intended 10 satire ; is the Professor and Seer not quite the blinkard he affects to be ? Of an ordinary mortal we should have decisively answered in the affirmative ; but with a Teu- felsdrockh there ever hovers some shade of doubt. In the mean while, if satire were actually intended, the case is 15 little better. There are not wanting men who will answer : Does your Professor take us for simpletons ? His irony has overshot itself ; we see through it, and perhaps through him. CHAPTER XL TAILORS. Thus, however, has our first Practical Inference from 20 the Clothes-Philosophy, that which respects Dandies, been sufficiently drawn ; and we come now to the second, con- cerning Tailors. On this latter our opinion happily quite coincides with that of Teufelsdrockh himself, as expressed in the concluding page of his Volume ; to whom, there- 25 fore, we willingly give place. Let him speak his own last words, in his own way : SARTOR RESARTUS. ' Upwards of a century,' says he, ' must elapse, and still the bleeding fight of Freedom be fought, whoso is noblest perishing in the van, and thrones be hurled on altars like Telion on Ossa, and the Moloch of Iniquity have his victims, and the Michael of Justice his martyrs, before Tailors can be admitted to their true prerogatives of manhood, and this last wound of suffering Humanity be closed. ' If au'dit in the history of the world's blindness could surprise us, here might we indeed pause and wonder. An idea has gone abroad, and fixed itself down into a wide-spreading rooted error, that Tailors are a distinct species in Physiology, not Men, but fractional Parts of a Man. Call any one a Schneider (Cutter, Tailor), is it not, in our dislocated, hoodwinked, and indeed delirious condition of Society, equivalent to defying his perpetual fellest enmity ? The epithet scJuieidermdssig (Tailor- like) betokens an otherwise unapproachable degree of pusillanimity : we introduce a Tailor s-Melancholy, more opprobrious than any Leprosy, into our Books of Medi- cine ; and fable I know not what of his generating it by living on Cabbage. Why should I speak of Hans Sachs (himself a Shoemaker, or kind of Leather-Tailor), with his Schneider ?ni/ dem PanicrJ Why of Shakespeare, in his laming of the Shre7C', and elsewhere? Does it not stand on record that the English Queen Elizabeth, re- ceiving a deputation of Eighteen Tailors, addressed them with a " (]ood morning, gentlemen both !" Did not the same virago boast that she had a Cavalry Regiment, whereof neither horse nor man could be injured : her Regiment, namely, of Tailors on Mares ? Thus every- where is the falsehood taken for granted, and acted on as ;in indisputable fact. * Nevertheless, need I put the question to any Physi- TAILORS. 263 ologist, whether it is disputable or not ? Seems it not at least presumable, that, under his Clothes, the Tailor has bones, and viscera, and other muscles than the sartorius ? Which function of manhood is the Tailor not conjectured to perform ? Can he not arrest for debt ? 5 Is he not in most countries a tax-paying animal? ' To no reader of this Volume can it be doubtful which conviction is mine. Nay, if the fruit of these long vigils, and almost preternatural Inquiries, is not to perish utter- ly, the world will have approximated towards a higher lo' Truth ; and the doctrine, which Swift, with the keen fore- \ cast of genius, dimly anticipated, will stand revealed in clear light : that the Tailor is not only a Man, but some- thing of a Creator or Divinity. Of Franklin it was said, that ''he snatched the Thunder from Heaven and the 15 Sceptre from Kings: " but which is greater, I would ask, he that lends, or he that snatches ? For, looking away from individual cases, and how a Man is by the Tailor new-created into a Nobleman, and clothed not only with Wool but with Dignity and a Mystic Dominion, — is not 20 the fair fabric of Society itself, with all its royal mantles and pontifical stoles, whereby, from nakedness and dis- memberment, we are organized into Polities, into nations, and a whole cooperating Mankind, the creation, as has here been often irrefragably evinced, of tKe Tailor alone ? -S — What too are all Poets and moral Teachers, but a species of Metaphorical Tailors ? Touching which high Guild the greatest living Guild-brother has trium- phantly asked us: "Nay, if thou wilt have it, who but I / the Poet first made Gods for men ; brought them down/jjo to us ; and raised us up to them ? " ' And this is he, whom sitting downcast, on the hard basis of his Shopboard, the world treats with contumely, as the ninth part of a man ! Look up. thou much-in- ,^^ SARTOR RESARTl/S. jured one, look up with the kindling eye of hope, and prophetic bodings of a noble better time. Too long hast thou sat there, on crossed legs, wearing thy ankle- joints to horn ; like some sacred Anchorite, or Catholic Fakir, doing penance; drawing down Heaven's richest blessings, for a world that scoffed at thee. Be of hope ! Already streaks of blue peer through our clouds; the thick gloom of Ignorance is rolling asunder, and it will be Day. Mankind will repay with interest their long- accumulated debt : the Anchorite that was scoffed at will be worshipped ; the Fraction will become not an Integer only, but a Square and Cube. With astonishment the world will recognise that the Tailor is its Hierophant and Hierarch, or even its God. ' As I stood in the Mosque of St. Sophia, and looked upon these Four-and-Twenty Tailors, sewing and em- broidering that rich Cloth, which the Sultan sends yearly for the Caaba of Mecca, I thought within myself : How many other Unholies has your covering Art made holy, besides this Arabian Whinstone ! ' Still more touching was it when, turning the corner of a lane, in the Scottish Town of Edinburgh, I came upon a Signpost, whereon stood written that such and such a one was " Breeches-Maker to his Majesty;" and stood painted the Effigies of a Pair of Leather Breeches, and between the knees these memorable words. Sic itur ad ASTRA. Was not this the martyr prison-speech of a Tailor sighing indeed in bonds, yet sighing towards deliverance, and prophetically appealing to a better day .^ A day of justice, when the worth of Breeches would be revealed to man, and the Scissors become for- ever venerable. ' Neither, perhaps, may I now say, has his appeal been 'altogether in vain. It was in this high moment, when t^AREWELL. 265 the soul, rent, as it were, and shed asunder, is open to inspiring influence, that I first conceived this Work on Clothes : the greatest I can ever hope to do ; v^^hich has already, after long retardations, occupied, and will yet occupy, so large a section of my Life ; and of which the Primary and simpler Portion may here find its con- clusion.' CHAPTER XII. FAREWELL. So have we endeavoured, from the enormous, amor- phous Plum-pudding, more like a Scottish Haggis, which Herr Teufelsdrockh had kneaded for his fellow mortals, 10 to pick out the choicest Plums, and present them separ- ately on a cover of our own. A laborious, perhaps a thankless enterprise ; in which, however, something of hope has occasionally cheered us, and of which we can now wash our hands not altogether without satisfaction. 15 If hereby, though in barbaric wise, some morsel of spirit- ual nourishment have been added to the scanty ration of our beloved British world, what nobler recompense could the Editor desire ? If it prove otherwise, why should he murmur? Was not this a Task which Destiny, in any 20 case, had appointed him ; which having now done with, he sees his general Day's-work so much the lighter, so much the shorter ? Of Professor Teufelsdrockh it seems impossible to take leave without a mingled feeling of astonishment, gratitude 25 and disapproval. Who will not regret that talents, which might have profited in the higher walks of Philosophy, or in Art itself, have been so rriuch devoted to a rummaging 266 SAKTOK RESARTUS. amonji lumber-rooms; nav, too often to a scraping in kennels, where lost rings and diamond-necklaces are no- wise the sole conquests ? Regret is unavoidable ; yet censure were loss of time. To cure him of his mad 5 juimours British Criticism would essay in vain : enough for her if she can, by vigilance, prevent the spreading of such among ourselves. What a result, should this pie- bald, entangled, hyper-metaphorical style of writing, not to say of thinking, become general among our Literary lo men ! As it might so easily do. Thus has not the Editor himself, working over Teufelsdrockh's German, lost much of his own English purity t Even as the smaller whirlpool is sucked into the larger, and made to whirl alon^ with it, so has the lesser mind, in this in- 15 stance, been forced to become portion of the greater, and, like it, see all thin^rs fisrurativelv : which habit time and assiduous effort will be needed to eradicate. Nevertheless, wayward as our Professor shows himself, is there any reader that can part with him in declared 20 enmity ? Let us confess, there is that in the wild, much- sufferini?, much-inflictino: man, which almost attaches us. His attitude, we will hope and believe, is that of a man who had said to Cant, Begone; and to Dilettantism, Here thou canst not be ; and to Truth, Be thou in place 25 of all to me : a man who had manfully defied the ' Time- * Prince,' or Devil, to his face; nay, perhaps, Hannibal- like, was mysteriously consecrated from birth to that warfare, and now stood minded to wage the same, by all weapons, in all places, at all times. In such a cause, 30 any soldier, were he but a Polack Scythe-man, shall be welcome. Still the question returns on us : How could a man occasionally of keen insight, not without keen isense of propri.tv. who had real Thoughts to communicate, re- FAREWELL. 267 solve to emit them in a shape bordering so closely on the absurd ? Which question he were wiser than the present Editor who should satisfactorily answer. Our conjecture has sometimes been, that perhaps Necessity as well as Choice was concerned in it. Seems it not conceivable 5 that, in a Life like our Professor's, where so much bounti- fully given by Nature had in Practice failed and misgone, Literature also would never rightly prosper : that striving with his characteristic vehemence to paint this and the other Picture, and ever without success, he at last desper- 10 ately dashes his sponge, full of all colours, against the canvas, to try whether it will paint Foam ? With all his stillness, there were perhaps in Teufelsdrockh desperation enough for this. A second conjecture we hazard with even less warranty. 15 It is, that Teufelsdrockh is not without some touch of the universal feeling, a wish to proselytise. How often already have we paused, uncertain whether the basis of this so enigmatic nature were really Stoicism and Despair, or Love and Hope only seared into the figure of these ! 20 Remarkable, moreover, is this saying of his : ' How were * Friendship possible .^ In mutual devotedness to the Good ' and True : otherwise impossible ; except as Armed Neu- ' trality, or hollow Commercial League. A man, be the ' Heavens ever praised, is sufficient for himself; yet were 25 ' ten men, united in Love, capable of being and of doing 'what ten thousand singly would fail in. Infinite is the ' help man can yield to man.' And now in conjunction ^herewith consider this other : ' It is the Night of the ' World, and still long till it be Day : we wander amid the 30 ' glimmer of smoking ruins, and the Sun and the Stars of ' Heaven are as if blotted out for a season ; and two \ ' immeasurable Phantoms, Hypocrisy and Atheism, with 1 'the Gowl, Sensuality, stalk abroad over the Earth, / 258 SARTOR RESARTUS. ' and call it theirs: well at ease are the Sleepers for whom ' Existence is a shallow Dream.' IJut what of the awestruck Wakeful who find it a Reality ? Should not these unite ; since even an authen- 5 tic Spectre is not visible to Two? — In which case were this enormous Clothes-Volume properly an enormous Pitchpan, which our Teufelsdrockh in his lone watch- tower had kindled, that it might flame far and wide through the Night, and many a disconsolately wandering 10 spirit be guided thither to a Brother's bosom ! — We say as before, with all his malign Indifference, who knows what mad Hopes this man may harbour? Meanwhile there is one fact to be stated here, which harmonises ill with such conjecture ; and, indeed, were 15 Teufelsdrockh made like other men, might as good as altoiiether subvert it. Namelv, that while the Beacon-fire blazed its brightest, the Watchman had quitted it ; that no pilgrim could now ask him : Watchman, what of the Night ? Professor Teufelsdrockh, be it known, is no 20 longer visibly present at Weissnichtwo, but again to all appearance lost in space ! Some time ago, the Hofrath Heuschrecke was pleased to favour us with another copious Epistle ; wherein much is said about the ' Popu- lation-Institute'; much repeated in praise of the Paper- -5 bag Documents, the hieroglyphic nature of which our Hofrath still seems not to have surmised ; and, lastly, the strangest occurrence communicated, to us for the first time, in the following paragraph : ' Eiv. IVohh^cborcn will have seen, from the public 30 ' Prints, with what affectionate and hitherto fruitless solic- ' itude Weissnichtwo regards the disappearance of her 'Sage. Might but the united voice of Germany prevail 'on him to return ; nay, could \ve but so much as eluci- ' date for ourselves by what mystery he went away ! But, FAREWELL. 269 alas, old Lieschen experiences or affects the profoundest deafness, the profoundest ignorance : in the Wahngasse all lies swept, silent, sealed up ; the Privy Council itself can hitherto elicit no answer, ' It had been remarked that while the agitating news of 5 those Parisian Three Days flew from mouth to mouth, and dinned every ear in Weissnichtwo, Herr Teufels- drockh was not known, at the Gans or elsewhere, to have spoken, for a whole week, any syllable except once these three : Es geht an (It is beginning). Shortly after, 10 as Ew. Wohlgeboren knows, was the public tranquillity here, as in Berlin, threatened by a Sedition of the Tailors. Nor did there want Evil-wishers, or perhaps mere desperate Alarmists, who asserted that the closing Chapter of the Clothes-Volume was to blame. In this 15 appalling crisis, the serenity of our Philosopher was in- describable : nay, perhaps, through one humble individ- ual, something thereof might pass into the Rath (Coun- cil) itself, and so contribute to the country's deliverance. The.Tailors are now entirely pacificated. — 20 ' To neither of these two incidents can I attribute our loss : yet still comes there the shadow of a suspicion out of Paris and its Politics. For example, when the Saint- Simonmn Society transmitted its Propositions hither, and the whole Gans was one vast cackle of laughter, lamenta- 25 tion and astonishment, our Sage sat mute ; and at the end of the third evening, said merely : " Here also are men who have discovered, not without amazement, that Man is still Man ; of which high, long-forgotten Truth you already see them make a false application." Since 30 then, as has been ascertained by examination of the Post-Director, there passed at least one Letter with its Answer between the Messieurs Bazard-Enfantin and our Professor himself ; of what tenor can now only be con- 2 JO SAKTOK RESARTUS. ' jectured. On the fifth night following, he was seen for ' the last time ! • Has this invaluable man, so obnoxious to most of the ' hostile Sects that convulse our Era, been spirited away S ' by certain of their emissaries ; or did he go forth volun- 'tarily to their head-quarters to confer with them, and 'confront them ? Reason we have, at least of a negative ' sort, to believe the Lost still living : our widowed heart 'also whispers that ere long he will himself give a sign. 10 'Otherwise, indeed, his archives must, one day, be opened 'by Authority; where much, perhaps the Pahngeiiesie ' itself, is thought to be reposited.' Thus far the Ilofrath ; who vanishes, as is his wont, loo like an Ignis Fatuus, leaving the dark still darker. 15 So that Teufelsdrockh's public History were not done, thcJi, or reduced to an even, unromantic tenor; nay, per- haps, the better part thereof were only beginning ? We stand in a region of conjectures, where substance has melted into shadowy and one cannot be distinguished 20 from the other. May Time, which sol^ves or suppresses all problems, throw glad light on this also P" Our own private conjecture, now amounting almost to certainty, is that, safe-moored in some stillest obscurity, not to lie always still, Teufelsdrockh is actually in London 1 -5 Here, however, can the present Editor, with an ambro- sial joy as of over-weariness falling into sleep, lay down his pen. Well does he know, if human testimony be worth aught, that to innumerable British readers likewise, this is a satisfying consummation ; that innumerable ',0 British readers consider him, during these current months, but as an uneasy interruption to their ways of thought and digestion; and indicate so much, not without a certain irritancy and even spoken invective. FAREWELL. 271 For which, as for other mercies, ought he not to thank the Upper Powers ? To one and all of you, O irritated readers, he, with outstretched arms and open heart, will wave a kind farewell. Thou, too, miraculous Entity, who namest thyself Yorke and Oliver, and with thy vivaci- 5 ties and genialities, with thy ail-too Irish mirth and mad- ness, and odour of palled punch, makest such strange work, farewell ; long as thou canst, idiXQ-well f Have we not, in the course of Eternity, travelled some months of our Life-journey in partial sight of one another ; have we 10 not existed together, though in a state of quarrel ? NOTES. ABBREVIATIONS. C. F. /,.... Thomas Carlyle. A History of the First Forty Years of His Life, by James Anthony Froude. 2 vols. Lond., 1891. C. I.. I . . . . Thomas Carlyle. A History of His Life in London by James .Anthony Froude. 2 vols. Lond., 1891. Essays. . . . Critical and Miscellaneous Essays: Collected and Repub- lished by ThonidS Carlyle. 4 vols. Boston, i860. L. W.C. . . The Last Words of Thomas Carlyle. N. Y., 1892. Kcm Reminiscences by Thomas Carlyle. Edited by Charles Eliot Norton. 2 vols. Lond., 1887. F. Utt. . . . Early Letters of Thomas Carlyle, 1814-1826. Edited by Charles Eliot Norton. Lond., 1886. /-/•// Letters of Thomas Carlyle, 1826-1836. Edited by Charles EHot Norton. Lond., 1889. G.-Corr. . . . Correspondence between Goethe and Carlyle. Edited by Charles Eliot Norton. Lond., 1887. C.-Traits. . . Tales by Musaeus. Tieck, Richter, translated from the Ger- man by Thomas Carlyle. 2 vols. Lond., 1874. C.-Jour. . . . MS. Copy of Carlyle's Journal, partly printed in C. E. L., in the possession of Prof. Norton. NOTES. PRELIMINARY. Mein Vermachtniss. This motto is prefaced to Goethe's Wilhelm Aleister, and in Carlyle's translation of that novel runs as follows : My inheritance, how wide and fair ! Time is my estate ; to time I'm heir. It is an expansion of Cardan's phrase, " Tempus mea possessio, tempus ager meus " ; see Forum, Feb., 1893, p. 719. For a'slight variant, see West-Oest. Divan, Hikviet Nameh ; Goethe, Sdmrnt. Werke, II, 238 ; Stuttgart, 1873. Carlyle quotes this distich in his essay on Richter, Essays, II, 199, in Characteristics, ib. Ill, 48 ; and repeatedly in his correspondence. Lett., 177, G.-Corr., 253, 259. 1 2. the torch of Science. An adaptation of " Truth like a torch, the more it's shook, it shines." Carlyle would be familiar with it, as the motto to Sir William Hamilton's Lectures. Goethe adapts it in Maxi/tien u. Reflexioneji, II. "DasWahre ist eine Fackel, aber eine ungeheure ; desswegen suchen wir alle nur blinzend so daran vorbei zu kommen, in Furcht sogar, uns zu verbrennen." See De Morgan, Budget of Paradoxes, p. 210; London, 1872. I have been unable to trace it further. " I hope in his hand the torch of eloquence will burn bright — and shed a strong ray of intellectual light over the whole district." E. Lett., 43. 1 7. kindled thereat. " We have sometimes felt as if his light were, to a certain extent, a borrowed one ; a rush-light kindled at the great pitch link of our own Blackwood's Magazine." Essays, Ger- ?naii Playwrights, I, 401. 1 15. Lagrange (1736-1813), French mathematician and critic of Newton : he received many marks of distinction from P'rederick the J^OTES. [Bk. I, Cap. I. Great, the French Republic and Napoleon. His contribution to mathematical knowledge is his theory of the oneness of the universe. 1 16. Laplace (1749-1S27), the Newton of France. With the appearance of his treatise, Mecanique Celeste, the last threat of instability of the universe was removed. Carlyle saw him at a meet- ing of the ///j/z/w/at I'aris in 1S24. See/^^w. II, 163. He brackets the two names in Signs 0/ the J^imes {Essays, II, 143) written in 1S29. Illustrations from mathematics came readily to Carlyle. While at the University of Edinburgh, he devoted much time to the study of mathematics and attracted the attention of Pro- fessor John Leslie by his powers in that department. He trans- lated Legendre's Elements of Geoinetry (1824); and his correspond- ence with Robert Mitchell bristles with allusions to mathematical reading, working of problems, etc. (see E. Lett., pp. Z-\oo, passim). He mentions Lagrange's Mecanique Analytique and Laplace's J/fVa- uique Celeste together, p. 72. For Carlyle's account of his enthusiasm for this study see G.-Corr., 156, n. 1 19. our nautical Logbooks. " His view of the world is a cool, gently scornful, altogether prosaic one : his sublimest Apocalypse of Nature lies in the microscope and telescope ; the Earth is a place for producing com ; the Starry Heavens are admirable as a nautical time-keeper." Essays, J^oltairc, II, 36. *• ' What is grander than the sun .'' ' added Wotton ; ' yet we all see it daily, and few think of the heavenly lamp save as a ripener of com. The moon, too, and the stars are measured in their courses : but astronomy is praised or tolerated because it helps us in navi- gating ships, and the divine horologe is rated as a supplement or substitute for Harrison's time-keeper.'" Z. IV. C, IFotton Rein- fred, 70. 2 1. Werners and Buttons. One of Carlyle's chief mannerisms is to make names of persons, events, etc., plural, for the sake of avoiding vagueness, and attaining picturesque effect. See p. 2, 1. 7 ff., p. 3, 1. 1 1 f. and passim. These names are not taken at ran- dom ; they were the rallying cries of rival theorists. Abraham (iottlob Werner (1750-18 17), the father of German geology, was inspector of the mining school at Freiberg. His theory was called the Neptunist, and upheld the aqueous origin of the earth. Geognosy was a term invented by him to mean "the natural position of min- erals in particular rocks, together with the grouping of those rocks, their geographical distribution and various relations." See Lyell, /'r///, />/,-. of Geology, pp. 46-48, N. Y., 1S60. James Hutton (1726- Bk. I, Cap.I.] . PRELIMINARY. 277 1797), was a Scotch geologist and originator of the Plutonian theory; i.e., of fire as an agent in the formation of the planet. His Theory of the Earth appeared in 1795. " I still remember that it was the desire to read Werner's Min- eralogical Doctrines in the original, that first set me on studying German ; where truly I found a mine, far different from any of the Freyberg ones!" G.-Corr., i^di. See also E. Lett., 102, 114. Essays, The Diafnond Necklace, IV, 14. 2 3. Royal Society. Incorporated by royal charter, Apr. 22, 1663. See Green, Short History of the English People, p. 596 • N. Y., 1S79. 2 4-6. Cooking of a Dumpling. An allusion to John Walcot's satirical verses on George III., "The Apple Dumplings and the King." Once on a time a monarch, tired with whooping, Whipping and spurring, Happy in worrying A poor, defenceless, harmless Buck (The Horse and Rider wet as Muck), From his high consequence and wisdom stooping, Enter'd, through curiosity, a cot Where sat a poor Old Woman and her pot. The wrinkled, blear-eyed, good old Granny, In this same cot, illumed by many a cranny, Had finish'd Apple-dumplings for her pot : In tempting row the naked Dumplings lay. When, lo ! the Monarch, in his us7tal way. Like Lightning spoke : " What's this ? what's this ? what ? what ? ' Then, taking up a Dumpling in his hand. His eyes with admiration did expand, And oft did Majesty the Dumpling grapple : " 'Tis monstrous, monstrous hard indeed," he cried ; " What makes it, pray, so hard? " — the Dame replied. Low curtseying, " Please your Majesty, the Apple." — " Very astonishing indeed I strange thing ! " (Turning the Dumpling round, rejoined the King) " 'Tis most extraordinary then, all this is ; It beats Pinetti's conjuring all to pieces ; Strange I should never of a Dumpling dream ! But, Goody, tell me where, where, where's the Seam ? " " Sir, there's no Seam," quoth she ; " I never knew That folks did Apple-dumplings sew '' — " No ! " cried the staring Monarch with a grin ; " How, how the devil got the Apple in ? " The IVorks of Peter Pindar, vol. i, p. 458 f. ; London, 1812. 2 g NOTES [Bk. I, Cap. I. 2 7. disquisitions on the Social Contract. "At any rate, what I'reatises on the Social Contract, on the Elective Franchise, the Rights of Man, the Rights of Property, Codifications, Institutions, Constitutions, have we not, for long years groaned under! Or, again, with a wider survey, consider those Essays on Man, Thoughts on Man, Inquiries concerning Man ; not to mention Evidences of the Christian Faith, Theories of Poetry, Considerations on the Origin of Evil, which during the last century have accumulated on us to a frightful extent. Essays, Characteristics, III, 23 f. — Social Con- tract. Rousseau's revolutionary treatise, Du Contrat Social on Frimtpes du Droit Politique (1762). 2 8. Standard of Taste. Carlyle has in mind the Essay 071 the Nature and rnnciplcs of Taste, Archibald Alison, 1790. His argu- ment is based on the principles of Association, and is endorsed by Jeffrey : see Gates's Selections from Jeffrey, Athenaeum Press Series, 1S91 ; and C. E. L., I, 3S8; Essays, Signs of the Times, II, 155. — Migrations of the Herring. John Gilpin's paper. On the Annual Passage of Herrings, Am. Society, II. 268, wrt^ have caught Carlyle's eye and occasioned the reference. Papers on this subject occur continually in the publications of learned societies. 2 9. Doctrine of Rent. — Theory of Value. Necessary parts of all discussions on Political Economy. See the works of Smith, Ricardo, etc. "Our Scottish sages have no such propensities : the field of their life shows neither briers nor roses ; but only a flat, continuous thrashing-floor for Logic, whereon all questions, from the ' Doctrine of Rent ' to the ' Natural History of Religion,' are thrashed and sifted with the same mechanical impartiality ! " Essays, Burns, I, 297. 2 10. Philosophies of Language. Schlegel's Philosophische Vor- Usungen, insbesondere iiber die Philosophie der Sprache tind des Wortcs (1S30) is the most remarkable of such works. — of History. Such books as F. v. Schlegel's (i 772-1829) Philosophie der Geschichte (1829) and ''Lectures on the Philosophy of Modern History" by George Miller, D.I)., 2 vols. ; Dublin, 1816. 2 11. of Pottery. Eraser for April, 1830, contains a criticism of a Lecture by Dr. Black on "The Philosophy of Pottery." — of Ap- paritions, probably referring to the work of S. Hibbert, Sketches of the I'hilosojjhy of Apparitions, their Physical Causes, 1825. — Intoxicating Liquors. Robert Macnish, who figures as number si.xty-seven in the /•>vmv- portraits, published in 1825 The Anatoiny of Drunkenness : and in 1S30 The Philosophy of Sleep. Carlyle fck. i, Cap. i.] PRELIMINARY. 2>9 probably blends the two titles. Macnish wrote also a burlesque article on " The Philosophy of Burking." See R. Bates, The Maclise Portrait-Gallery, p. 350 ff; London, 1891. Nodes A?nbrosianae, III, 108, n. 1865. 2 14. probed, dissected. In Sig?is of the Times, referring to Cabanis and his Rapports du Physique etdii Morale de P Homme, C?ir\y\Q says, " He fairly lays open our moral structure with his dissecting knives and real metal-probes ; and exhibits it to the inspection of mankind, by Leuwenhoek microscopes, and inflation with the ana- tomical blowpipe." Essays, II, 144. 2 17. Stewarts. See 2 1, n. Dugald Stewart (17 53-1828), the famous Scotch philosopher, professor at Edinburgh from 1785 to 1820. — Cousins. Victor Cousin (1792-1867) introduced German philosophy into France and organized French primary instruction. His 'Essay Dti Frai, du Beau et du Bieu (1854) is a standard work on the subject. — Royer-Collards. Pierre Paul Royer-Collard (1763- 1845), French follower of Thomas Reid, founder of the Scoto-French school of Philosophy. 2 19. Lawrences. See 2 1, n. Sir William Lawrence's course of lectures on Physiology, before the Royal College of Surgeons in 18 1 6-18, had raised a storm of controversy. Bates, Maclise Gallery, p. 315. — Magendies. Fran9ois Magendie (1783-1855), one of first vivisectors ; he investigated the functions of different nerves. — Bichats. Maria Fran9ois Xavier Bichat (1771-1802), famous French surgeon and physiologist. 2 26. lives, moves: an adaptation of Acts xvii. 28. See also 201 33, and 246 33. 2 30. property . . . accident. Terms used by the schoolmen to distinguish between qualities ahvays occurring and those not always occurring in an object. " Accidens est quod adest atque abest sine subjecti interitu." 3 2. Shakespeare says : Sure, he, that made us with such large discourse, Looking before, and after, gave us not That capability and godlike reason To fust in us unus'd. Hamlet, iv. 4. Cp. Shelley, The Skylark. *' But man's ' large discourse of reason ' will look ' before and after.'" Essays, Signs of the Times, II, 135. "Let us, instead of gazing idly into obscure distance, look calmly 2gQ NOTES. [Bk. r Cap. I. around us for a little on the perplexed scene where we stand." iK 138- 3 11. Catholic Emancipations. The year 1830 in which Sartor was begun was one of the most eventful in European history. O'Connell's agitation for the removal of civil disabilities from the Catholics culminated in the passage of a bill for their emancipation in iS:!9. Next year the July revolution of the Three Days in Paris overturned the throne of Charles X. and gave a new impetus to the demand for Parliamentary reform in England. The Duke of Wel- lington, the Tory prime minister, would not listen to the popular cry and was driven from ofilice. After being throvk'n out by the Lords, Karl (Jrey's Reform Bill became law in 1832. By its provisions, fifty-six " rotten boroughs " lost the right to be represented in Parliament, and the franchise was given to large towns which here- tofore had possessed no such right. The "rotten boroughs" were electoral districts, with very few voters. Old Sarum had none. The political excitement retarded the publication of Sartor. •* My poor Book, as you have perhaps heard, cannot be printed at present ; for this plain reason, all Book-selling is at an end, till once this Reform Bill of theirs be past." Lett., 259; cp. G.-Corr., 290 ; cp. 269 6. 3 n, watch-tower. See 268 7. Cf. Der Dichter steht aiif einer hoheren Warte, Als auf den Zinnen der Partei. Freiligrath, Alls Spanien. 3 16. Hbret ihr Herren. Listen, .sirs, and let me tell you. The first line of a Volkslied (see Die Detitschen Volkslieder, Simrock, 1851, p. 589), supposed to be uttered by the bellman on his nightly round.s. As every hour strikes, he reminds those awake of some C-hfistian doctrine suggested by it. Three suggests the Trinity; twelve, the number of the Apostles. Hort ihr Herm uud lasst euch sagen, Unsre Clock hat Zehn geschlagen, Zehn Gebote setzt Gott ein, Dass wir sollten gliicklich sein. There is an English version : — " Listen, good people and hear me tell, One now strikes from the belfry bell," etc. Part of the phrase occurs in Musaeus, Stumtue Liebe. See C.-Trans., I, 38 f. For Carlyle's encounter with a watchman, cp. C.L.L., I, 15S. Bk. I, Cap. I.] PRELIMINARY. 28 1 3 22. gold-mines of Finance. Money-getting. 3 23. fat oxen. An adaptation of Johnson's comic line, " Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat," which burlesques "Who rules o'er freemen should himself be free." Boswell,siib ann., 1784. Carlyle, apparently relying on his memory, made the line " Who kills fat," etc., and applied it to the game of politics. Ruling o'er freemen, i.e.., driving fat oxen, makes the driver (politician) " grow fat," i.e.., prosper. " Horace seems to think that who drives fat oxen must himself be fat ; and that Homer and Ennius must have acquired gout as well as fame by their praises of wine " ; Malkin, Classical Disquisiiions, p. 387. Lond., 1825. 3 25. goose-hunting. Carlylean adaptation of wild-goose chase, "the pursuit of anything in ignorance of the direction it will take; hence a foolish pursuit or enterprise. According to Dyce, the name wild-goose chase was applied to a kind of horse race, in which two horses were started together, the rider who gained the lead forcing the other to fallow him wherever he chose to go." Century Dictiofi- ary. 3 28. By geometric scale. In mathematics he was greater Than Tycho Brahe or Erra Pater ; For he by geometric scale Could take the size of pots of ale. Hudibras, Pt. I. cant. i. 4 7. many shall run. .See Dan. xii. 4. 4 18. these his. The insertion of the long adjectival phrase between ' his ' and ' rambles ' is good German usage but not English. It is one of Carlyle's devices to give color to his transparent pretext that the book is from the German. See Introd. 4 20. realm of . . . Night. See 18 9, n. 4 22. speculation should have. " Our readers will permit us to explain ourselves by a figure. On the stone parapet which sur- rounds the platform of Strasburg cathedral are lines cut deeply towards all points 0/ the compass, which accurately mark the hori- zontal direction in which the chief cities of Europe lie \vith reference to that centre. You feel yourself, as it were, in the central point of one quarter of the globe. . . . And by this emblem we try to illustrate the prevailing tendency of Kimst und Alterthuni. Its object was not to announce or describe great, isolated, and imposing productions ; but with accu- rate, practised glance like a watchful warder, to keep a vigilant Q^ NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. I. 252 lookout in all directions where anything excellent or promising appeared." Letter of K. V. MUller translated by S. Austin. Charac- Urutus cf Goethi, III, 306. Lond., 1833. Mrs. Austin was a friend of the Carlyles. In a letter to Mrs. C, Dec. 25, 1832, she mentions the progress of this work. 6'. i?. Z., II, 333- It is a likely phuc for Ktnschic-bsel; for the paragraph might well end with ••Night." However, Goethe sent the five volumes of Kunst u. Altherthum to Carlyle in 1828. See G.-Corr., 53, ill- 4 30. cramp. In Fraser and later eds. it stands "cramps" uncorrected. 5 •->. Learned. Translation of "Gelehrter." A designed Ger- manism. See 4 1-, n. 5 13. Teufelsdrdckh. I )evirs-dirt, the popular German for assa- foetida. First, • Teufelsdreck ', but changed to the present form liefore Feb. 10, 1833. See Lett., 365, n. Carlyle's intention in his title may be seen from the following : •' I am struggling forward with Dreck, sick enough, but not in bad heart. I think the world will nowise be enraptured with this (medi- cinal) Dnirs Dung.'" Lett., 220. " I sometimes think the book will prove a kind of medicinal assafoetida for the pudding stomach of England, and produce new secretions there." Letter to J. Carlyle, July 17, 183 1. C. E. L., II, 162. Cp. Browning, Heretic's Tragedy, 1. 65. 5 13. Weissnichtwo. Know not where. The joke is as old as M ore's I'topia and may have been suggested by the roguish opening paragraph of The Monastery, which lays the scene in the village of Kennaquhair. To see how this name could mystify an Englishman of genius, consult Ruskin, Praeterita, III, 140. .■> 20. Die Kleider. In his letter to Carlyle of June 6, 1830, Goethe says he intends to send him " Ein hochst wichtiges Heft- chen, unter dem Titel : Ueber Werden und Wirken der Literatur" (L. Wachler, Hreslau, 1S29). G.-Corr., 195. On Aug. 31 Carlyle acknowledges the receipt of it. Undoubtedly this treatise suggested his title. 5 2-2. Stillschweigen und Co^^^^. Silence and Co. J. U. D., Juris L'triusque Doctor, LL.D. Up to May 27, 1833, the title was "Thoughts on Clothes, or Life and Opinions of Herr D. Teufelsdrockh, D.U.J." Cp. 9 93. 5 23. Weissnichtwo'sche Anzeiger. The Utopian Advertiser. Anzeiger is one of the commonest names for a German newspaper ; e.g., Keichsanzeiger, etc. Bk. I, Cap. II.] EDITORIAL DIFFICULTIES. 283 5 30. work — interesting. Part of Carlyle's humor is to praise his own work in this insidious way. p 6 11. mochte es. May it flourish also on British soil ! 613. "whose seed-field." See note on motto, p. 275. 6 16. marked with chalk. " Cressa ne careat pulchra dies nota." Horat, Carrn. i. 36. 10. 6 17. extensive Volume. See 5 24. 6 20. the toughest pearl-diver. Cp. Browning, Paracelsus, Pt. I : end : Two points in the adventure of a diver, One — when, a beggar, he prepares to plunge. One — when, a prince, he rises with his pearl? L.-— 6 26. new human Individuality. This is Carlyle's excuse for introducing Book II, which is IVotton Reinfred cvX into slips. 7 4. a proselytising creature. See 194 28, n. 7 27. Fraser's magazine. See Introd. xix, and 271 6-7, n. 7 28. Waterloo-Crackers. " Fire-crackers " of a special size, made to celebrate the great victory. 7 32. inexorably shut. Sartor had been sent to Eraser as two magazine articles in the winter of 1830 and not published. 8 7. to revolve them. With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, Revolving in his altered soul The various turns of chance below. Alexander'' s Feast, 11. 70-72. 8 16. Hofrath Heuschrecke. Privy-Councillor Grasshopper. See Introd.; cp. 21 27, n. and 205 14, n. l^ 8 28. the Family. A London publication, encyclopaedic in character, which ran from 1829 to 1842. Coleridge, Scott, Southey, Lockhart and Milman were among its contributors. See Lett., 1 59. — the National, "which did not extend beyond a few volumes, was conducted by the Rev. G. R. Gleig, and published by Colburn and Bentley. Gait's Life of Byron was No. i ; and this was fol- lowed by Gleig's History of the Bible.'" Nodes Amb. Ill, 79, note. 1865. y^ 8 29. "glory of British Literature." Ironic. See also 32 8. Carlyle's opinion of these publications is sufficiently clear from the following extract : " Our zeal for popularising, again, is to be seen on every side of us. To say nothing of our Societies for the Diffti- sioti of useful Knowledge, with their sixpenny treatises, really very ^g NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. II. meritorious, we have I know not how many Miscellanies, Family Uhraries. Cabinet Cyclop'stals at once. The idea is Goethean, however. On the news of Jerusalem's death "the plan of IVerier was invented: the whole shot together fr(im all sides, and became a solid mass; as the water in the vessel, which already stood on the point of freezing, is by the slightest motion changed at once into firm ice." Dichtung n. Wahrheit, b. iii, s. 200-:: 1 3, quoted by Carlyle, Essays, Goethe, I, 230, written in 1828. 9 KJ. Oliver Yorke. The pseudonym assumed by William Maginn (i 794-1842), as editor of Eraser. Cp. Christopher (or Kit) North, for John Wilson, editor of Blackwood. See Bates, Maclise Gallery, 40, and Diet. Nat. Biog. for account of his life. 9 17. ' patriotic libraries.' See S 29. 9 -n. Sartor Resartus. Mr. W. Davenport Adams, in his Dictionary of English Literature, asserts that the title is taken from a Scotch ballad. The Tailor Patched, but no authority is adduced, and a careful search by Prof. J. T. Hatfield, Ph.D., through a large mass of ballad literature, and by myself at Harvard, has failed to discover any such ballad. 9 a:«. Life and Opinions. See 5 22, n. ' 9 32. the paralysis of Cant. Carlyle owes something to John- son's definition, which is of the clearest. See Boswell's Life, stib ann.. May i 5, 17S3. BoswKi.i, : " Perhaps, Sir, I should be the less happy for being in Parliament. I never would sell my vote, and I should be ve.xed if things went wrong." Johnson : "That's cant, Sir. It would not vex you more in the house than in the gallery : public affairs vex no man." ..." My dear friend, clear your mind of cant. You may talk as other people do : you may say to a man, ' Sir, I am your most humble servant.' Vou are not his most humble servant. . . . \o\\ may talk in this manner ; it is a mode of talking in society : but don't think foolishly." Bk. I, Cap. III.] REMINISCENCES. 285 In Wotton Reinfred the same note had been sounded. It is the key-note to much of Carlyle's philosophy. •' I profess a kind of enmity to cant, wherever I may find it." " After all," said Williams, "cant is the great cosmetic and enamel of existence, the cheap and sovereign alchemy for making crooked things straight and rough places plain ; why should I quarrel with it, I that need it so much myself, nay, so many times am forced to use it?" . . . " Life is a huge tread-mill, if you don't step forward they trample you to jelly, and if you do step forward for a century, you are exactly where you started. Good Cant ! Now she tells us this is a journey towards a noble goal with prospects of this and that on the right hand and the left ; it is a journey as I tell you. Long life to Cant ! if it were not she {sic), we might hang and drown ourselves, and with her one can live in surprising comfort." L. W. C., 117, 118, 119. 10 2. insignificant. This with the note is part of the joke of mystification. See Introd., xli. ^ 10 4. Whoso hath ears. See Matt. xi. 1 5. 10 14. wear. Usually spelled ' weir,' dam. 10 22. nights and suppers. " O noctes coenaeque deum, quibus, etc." Horace, Satires ii. 6. 65. 10 22. feast of reason. " There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl The Feast of Reason and the flow of Soul." Pope, Imitations of Horace, Satire i. 127 f. 10 27. Amicus Plato. "■ Amicus Plato — my father would say, construing the words to my uncle Toby, as he went along. Amicus Plato ; — that is, Dinah was my aunt ; — sed inagis ajuica Veritas — but Truth is my sister." Tristram Shandy, vol. I. cap. xxi. Sterne most probably got it from Cervantes. See Don Quixote, Pt. II. cap. li. Erasmus gives the Greek form of the saw in his ' Adagia,' 1643, P- 4^' *^'^^- 2 • *^i'^os nXdrwi' aXKh. /xdWov i] oXrjdeLa. See Azotes and Queries, 3d Ser., VIII, 275. 219 ; ist Ser., III. 484. 468. 389. 10 31. Prince of Lies. The prince of darkness is a gentleman : Modo he's called and Mahu. King Lear, iii. 4. 128 f. 11 1. Puffery. Cp. 100 26. "In like manner Colburn and Bentley, the booksellers, are known to expend ten thousand annu- ally on what they call advertising, more commonly called puffing^ 286 NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. III. ruffing . . . flourishes in all countries ; but London is the true scene of it, having this one quality beyond all other cities — a quite im- measurable si/e. It is rich also, stupid and ignorant beyond exam- ple ; thu.s in all respects the true Goshen of quacks." C. E. L., II. ::ii. ••Now, apart from the subterranean and tartarean regions of Literature : — leaving out of view the frightful, scandalous statis- tics of Luffing -" Essays, Characteristics, III, 27. "Literature, too, has its Laternoster-row mechanism, its Trade-dinners, its Edito- rial conclaves, and huge subterranean, puffing bellows." Essays, Six'ns of the Times, II, 14 1. 111. no cheating. "A merchant with them is considered as the lowest character in the country, as a man that will cheat if he can, and whose trade it is to create and then supply artificial wants." Horrow, Travels in China, 180. Lond., 1806. "The inscriptions in the shops are sometimes amusing. . . . We have seen the follow- ing — 'tlossiping and long sitting injure business'; 'Former cus- tomers have inspired caution — no credit given'; . . . 'Goods genuine, prices true.'" Davis, China and the Chinese, II, 17 (The Family Library). II N. Hegel. G. W. Y. Hegel (1770-1831). "To the end he remains a self-seeking, determined, laborious, critical, unaffectionate man. faithful to his office and his household, loyal to his employers, cruel to his foes. . . . His style in his published works is not without its deep ingenuity, and its marvelous accuracy, but other- wise it is notoriously one of the most barbarous, technical, and obscure in the whole history of philosophy." Royce, Spirit of Modern Philosophy, 196. — Bardili. Christoph Gottfried (1761- iSoS), Professor of Philosophy at the gymnasium at Stuttgart from 1795 ^'^^ ^'^ death. His first work, Griindriss der ersten Logik (Stuttgart, 1800), was a severe attack on Kant. On account of the obscurity of his style, he was and is generally neglected. *• Bardili's Rational Realism, is it not like the doctrine of Male- branche t " C.-Jonr., 49. II 16. descend . . . Forum. * In forum descendere' is a Ciceronian phrase which Carlyle may have recollected. He was reading Cicero in 181 5. See E. Lett., 16. II 25. Oken. Loren/ (1779-1S51); real name, Ockenfuss; prom- inent naturalist; professor ''extraordinary" of Medicine at Jena in 1807. His lectures on Natural Philosophy and Comparative Anat- omy first brought him into notice. In 181 2 he became ordinary professor of natural philosophy, and in 1S16 he founded his ency- Bk. I , Cap. Ill] REMINISCENCES. 287 clopaedic journal, Isis, which he edited till its cessation in 1848. On account of its boldness in attacking various abuses, his was' sup- pressed in various German towns and the editor forced to resign his professorship. Oken's greatest achievement is his attempt to prove that nature is one. 11 26. Isis. See 11 25, n. A very appropriate journal for the expression of such opinions as Teufelsdrockh is credited with. 12 6. Gukguk. Borrowed from Richter. " The old gentleman, who in Wittenberg, had toped as well as written, and thirsted not more for the Hippocrene than for Gukguk." Qitintu's Fixlein. C.- Trims., II, 106. 12 7. Zur Griinen Cans. The Green Goose Tavern, the name of a veritable Lokal in Munich, which John Carlyle described to his brother, after his first visit there in 1827. On his second visit in 1S35, Carlyle writes : "It seems to me you ought to meet Teufels- droeckh in some of the Coffee-houses of Munich ! Do they meet in that one yet and drink beer ? " Lett, 554. John also described the lodging and watchtower in the IVahngasse ; see ib. 555, n. 12 21. Bleibt doch. But he is a thorough joker and jail-bird. 12 24. Wo steckt. Where is the rascal hiding "i 12 30. Under those thick locks. The thought is repeated. 28 7-15. 13 6. smoke tobacco. Scrap of a famous song in praise of tobacco. It is by G. Wither and appears in D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, beginning. Tobacco's but an Indian weed ; Grows green at mom, cut down at eve, It shows our decay, we are but clay. Think of this when you smoke tobacco. Why should we so much despise So good and wholesome an exercise As early and late, to meditate, Thus think and smoke tobacco. See F. W. Fairholt, Tobacco, 102 f. Lond., 1859. Another variant occurs in Handy Andy. Carlyle as a devotee of the weed and a Scot would know the song, in the version of the Rev. Ralph Erskine : This Indian weed, now withered quite, Tho' green at noon, cut down at night. Shows thy decay, All flesh is hay : Thus think and smoke tobacco. ^gg XOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. III. 13 10. in petto. Literally, •^^^thin the breast,' * in reserve," in secret." A phrase used of a candidate for the Popedom not openly declared by the College of Cardinals. " Fraulein Libussa was un- doubtedly the favoured candidate, at least in petto, of the sage Elec- tors": Lil'ussiJ, C.Trans., I, 77. 13 II. were. Eraser and all subsequent editions have 'was' uncorrected. 13 13. Sans-culottism. From Fr. ' Sans-culotte,' tatterdemalion, more picture.squc than the tamer term, Radicalism. Not Carlyle's own coinage ; Goethe had used the term ' Literarischer Sansculot- tismus'in a review as early as 1795. See Sdmmt. Werke, XIII, 396. Stuttgart, 1873. '• It is in these places, in these mouths, that the epithet Sans- culotte first gets applied to indigent Patriotism ; in the last age we had Gilbert Sans-culotte, the indigent poet. Destitute-of-Breeches; a mournful Destitution ; which, however, if twenty millions share it, may become more effective than most possessions." French Revo- lution. The Constitution, bk. III. cap. iv. The places are the '• cafe de Valois and at Meot the Restaurateur's " ; the ' mouths ' are those of aggressive Royalists at Paris in 1792. " Un jour que les femmes qui occupaient les tribunes de la Constituante etaient encore plus bruyantes que de coutume, I'abbe Maury dit au presi- dent : Monsieur le president, faites taire ce tas de sans-culottes." Littre. Supple.; cp. Biichman, Gefiilg. JForte, p. 387. 17th ed. 14 2. Melchizedek. See Gen. xiv. 17-24 and Heb. viii. 1-3. 14 :>. vivid way. One of Carlyle's own gifts. 14 7. Wandering Jew. The legend is that Christ bearing his cro.ss on the way to Calvary asked leave to rest at the stall of a shoemaker, who struck him and bade him pass on. Christ replied, •* Thou shalt pass on forever." The man never died, cannot die, and must traverse the earth till the Judgment Day. Cp. Percy's Keliqucs, Ahasuerus and Pseudodoxia Epidemica, Bk. VII. cap. x\di ; for modem treatment, Eugene Sue, Le Juif Errant ; for popular discussion, Baring-Gould. Curious Myths of the Middle Ages. 14 12. AUgemeine Zeitung. Universal Journal. 'Zeitung,' newspaper, is part of the title of many German periodicals. 14 2.?. reflect light and resist pressure. Fag-end of physical definition. 14 33. Program. The outline or abstract of courses in a Ger- man s'-hool or university, usually accompanied by an original paper or address. Bk. I, Cap. III.] REMINISCENCES. 289 Y ' 15 3. bodying . . . forth. Phrase often used by Carlyle. Cp. 197 24, 203 24. — And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, — Midsumtner Night'' s Dream, v. i. 15 9. recommended. Supposititious quotation from the ' Pro- gram,' 14 33. But on Jan. 17, 1828, Carlyle wrote to Goethe for a testimonial to help him to the chair of Moral Philosophy in St. Andrews, and Goethe sent him a most flattering one. See G.-Corr., 63-81 ; C. E. L., I, 434. 15 20. hold his peace. Bekker was called "den Stummen in sieben Sprachen." See Goethe's Correspondence with Zelter, March 15, 1830. 15 23. wonder — nine days. " I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you came." As You Like It, iii. 2. 151. 16 9. not more interested. Cp. 19 30 ; 28 1 ff ; 214 2. 16 24. Wahngasse. Fancy-lane, Dream-alley. See 12 7, n. ^ 16 2.5. pinnacle. An allusion to the high tower of Herod's Temple of Jerusalem. See Luke iv. 9 ; cp. 214 15. 16 29. Airts. Points of the compass ; quarters. Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, I dearly Hke the west, For there the bounie lassie lives, — Burns, / Love my lean. 16 33. speculum. Carlyle has tripped here in his Latin. ' Spe- culum ' is mirror, watch-tower is ' specula.' In his review of Scott he misunderstands ' publicanus.' See R. H. Hutton, Essays on Some of the Modern Guides to English Thought in Matters of Faith, p. 40 f., London, 1891; and E. Lett., 116, n. The germ of this famous passage seems to have come from Burton's Ajiatoviy of Melancholy, which Carlyle read in 1826. "Greater preferment as I could never get, so am I not in debt for it. I have a competence {laus Deo) from my noble and munificent patrons, though I live still a collegiate student, as Democritus in his garden, and lead a monas- tic life, ipse niihi theatrum, sequestered from those tumults and troubles of the world, Et tanqua?n in specula positus, (as he said) in some high place above you all, like Stoicus Sapiens, omnia saecula, praeterita praesentiaque videns, uno velut intuitu, I hear and see what is done abroad, how others run, ride, turmoil, and macerate themselves in court and country, far from those wrangling lawsuits, aulae vanitate7ti,fori ambitionem, ridere mecum soleo : I laugh at all ^ NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. III. only secure lest my suit go amiss, my ships perish, corn and cattle miscarry, trade decay, I have no wife nor children good or bad to provide for. A mere spectator of other men's fortunes and adven- tures, and how they act their parts which one thinks are diversely presented unto me, as from a common theatre or scene."' Democri- tus to the Reader. 17 7. choking by sulphur. The old-fashioned way of obtaining honey was to kill the entire swarm in the autumn with the fumes of sulphur. Ah ! see where, robbed and murdered in that pit Lies the still heaving hive ; at evening snatched, Heneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, And fixed o'er sulphur. Tho.mson, /i7. there, topladen. " But observe, also, on beaten highw^ays, how dust on dust, in long cloudy trains, mounts up, betokening the track of commodious top-laden carriages, in which the rich, the noble, and many others are whirled along." Carlyle, A/eister's Travels, cap. Last. 17 2.S. Aus der Ewigkeit. Cp. 242 25, n. 17 26. these are Apparitions. This thought is expanded nobly in •• Natural Supernaturalism," Bk. III. cap. viii. Of his sister .Margaret, who died June 22, 1830, Carlyle wrote, Jan. 1831, '■'We are spirits as well as she, and God is round us and in us, Here as well as Yonder." Lett., 187. 17 29. Their solid pavement. According to Carlyle's meta- physics, which are Berkeleyan, all one knows of the pavement on which he treads is sensation ^^•ithin himself ; sensation of color, sensation of touch, nothing more. See 48 14, n. 17 :<2. Clothes-screen. A soldier apparently. Carlyle's word for a mere wearer of gorgeous clothes. Cp. 35 21, 49 18. 18 1. Hengst and Horsa. The leaders of the English invaders of Britain in the Fifth Century. See Bede, Ecc. Hist., cap. xv. Bk. I, Cap. 1 11. J REMINISCENCES. 291 18 9. ancient reign of Night. Refers to Paradise Lost, bk. ii. 1. 961 £f., particularly 11. 970, 9S6, 1002. Cp. Faerie Queen, i. 5, 22. The idea comes from Hesiod. See Cudworth, Intellectual System, I, 402-407. Lond., 1845. 18 32. The Lover whispers. In the beginning of this century there were many runaway matches. The eloping couples escaped the stricter English marriage laws by posting to Gretna Green, just across the Scotch border. 19 10. Rabenstein. The raven-stone, the gallows. It forms the centre of a most impressive scene in Goethe's Faust. 19 11. two-legged animals. " He (Diogenes) heard people approve the definition which Plato gave of man, which he called a two-legged animal without feathers. This suggested to him the idea of taking a cock which he plucked, and then carried to the school of Plato, saying, ' Here is Plato's man.' " Diogenes Laertius, bk. vi. 19 24. I am alone. Cp. 140 8 and n. 19 27. Night-thoughts. Allusion to T/ie Cornplaint or A'ight- Thoiig/its, a religious poem in blank verse, by the Rev. Edward Young (1681-1765). Many of its lines have become common quota- tions. Carlyle uses the phrase in the same way in The French Revolution. The Guillotine, bk. i. cap. v. 20 5. 'united in a common element.' The passage is imitated from Goethe's description of Mariana's housekeeping. " Music, portions of plays and pairs of shoes, washes and Italian flowers, pin-cushions, hair-skewers, rouge-pots and ribbons, books and straw- hats ; no article despised the neighborhood of another ; all were united by a common element, powder and dust." Meister^s Appren- ticeship, bk. i. cap. XV ; see 12 7, n. 21 13. they never appear, Chambers's Cyclopaedia bears uncon- scious witness to the importance of this badge of respectability. " Instead of effeminacy, it is considered now a sign of poverty or improvidence not to be possessed of one." Art. Umbrella. In Poole's farce, " Paul Pry," which was very popular in 1826 and thereabouts, the eponymous hero and his umbrella are inseparable. The typical respectable nonentity seems familiarly English rather than German. 21 14. little wisdom. Attributed to Axel Oxenstiern (1583- 1654), the Swedish statesman. "An nescis, mi fill, quantilla pruden- tia mundus regatur ? " His son had hesitated to accept the headship of a Swedish embassy, on the ground of his youth. XOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. III. 292 21 as. confusion worse confounded. 1 saw and heard, for such a numerous host Fled not in silence through the frighted deep With nun upon ruin, rout on rout, ( .infusion worst: confounded ; Par. Lost, ii. 993 ff. 21 n. the very Spirit. From Carlyle's own index-reference to 205 \\ it would appear that Heuschrecke is Malthus himself. In this light the intention of the quotation is highly ironical. 21 31. burin. The chief tool of the wood-engraver. Carlyle <»how» herc^that he is conscious of his own peculiar excellence, — literary portraiture. See his pen-pictures of Coleridge, Lamb and Wordsworth in his Kc-miniscences. 11 10. fondness of a Boswell. " It was impossible that there khould l)c perfect harmony between two such companions. Indeed the great man was sometimes provoked into fits of passion, in which he said things which the small man, during a few hours, seriously resented. Every quarrel, however, was soon made up. During twenty years the disciple continued to worship the master : the master continued to scold the disciple, to sneer at him, and to love him." Macaulay, Snmufl Jo/msoti. See also Carlyle's essay on lutinson. 11 •**■ Dalai-Lama. The Grand l.ama, Buddhist human-god of rhil>i:t. "If the Lama doctor happens not to have any medicine with him, he is by no means disconcerted ; he writes the names of the remedies upon little scraps of paper, moistens the paper with his saliva, and rolls them up into pills, which the patient looses down with the same perfect confidence as if they were genuine medicaments." Hue, Travels in Tarta?y, Thibet a7id China, translated by \V. Ilazlitt, I, 67, 3d ed. London. 11 3a. Talapoin. Monk-in a Buddhist monastery. "'^ ' '^i!* watching the Bear. Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen in some high lonely tow'r Where I may oft outwatch the Bear. Milton, II Petiseroso, 1. 85 ff. " As the Bear never sets, he could only outwatch him by sitting up till .1. .;,-.,)<•. (Keightley.) l^k . I , Cap. I V. J CHA RA C TERJS TICS. 293 23 18. Documents. See 8 34. 23 S3. Bag of Doubloons. The preface to Gil Bias tells of two students on their travels finding a stone with this inscription, " Here lies interred the soul of the licentiate Peter Garcias." The one* enjoyed the jest and went his way; but the other dug up the stone and found underneath a purse of a hundred ducats, with a note appointing the lucky finder the whimsical licentiate's heir. "Such things are in themselves mere words but, like the Spanish licentiate's epitaph, they are the clue to the soul that lies buried ; and he who digs for it judiciously will, like the sagacious student, not fail of his reward." R. Garnett, Philological Essays, p. 113, Lend., 1859. 24 7. Weissnichtwo'sche Anzeiger. See 5 23 and n. 24 31. Pontiff. See 70 30, n. 24 32. a whole immensity. Before the days of Ruskin and "William Morris. As Mr. Lang would say, 'Elegance of taste and fastidious research of ornament could do no more.' 25 5. star of a Lord. Part of the insignia of such orders as the Bath, the Garter, etc., is a jewel in the shape of a star. ' Lord' is not a rank but a title given to those who are noble by birth or creation. 25 19. humour of looking. See bk. iii. cap. viii. for full development of this idea. 25 30. In our wild Seer. This passage shows a tendency in Carlyle to praise his own work. Cp. 26 29 ff. and passim. 25 31. locusts and wild honey. See Matt. iii. 1-6. 26 15. Sanchoniathon. This catalogue reminds one profanely of the ingenious Mr. Ephraim Jenkinson citing, " Sanchoniathon, Manetho, Berosus and Ocellus Lucanus " on the "cosmogony or creation of the world " to Dr. Primrose of Wakefield. Sanchonia' thon (" the god Sakkun hath given"), the name of the pretended author of the Phoenician writings, said to have been used by Philo Byblius, author of a Phoenician history, part of which is preserved in Eusebius. 26 16. Dr. Lingard (1771-1851). The reference is to his An- tiquities of the Anglo-Saxon Church (1819) and his History of England (1830). — Shasters (.S"aj-^^a, a book). The authoritative religious and legal books of the Hindus. — Talmuds. The Talmud {lamad, to learn), is the fundamental code of the Jewish civil and canonical law. 26 17. Korans (karaa, to read). The sacred book of the Ma- NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. IV homctan*. "which forms the religious, social, ci%il, commercial, mUiiao- an««»^ <^^^ ""^ Islam." — Cassini. Jacques, second of a ^^ • f French astronomers (1677-1 756). YVx?, Astroitomi- • ^.. jjublished in 1740- 26 18. Mi^canique Celeste. See 1 I6, n. — Belfast Town and Country Almanack. Still published. In a letter to Robert Mitchell of .\ut;n>t 3, iSk.. (-arlyle mentions having consulted this almanac for the tides, in order to arrange an excursion from Annan to Cum- ' with his friend. /:'. Lett. 39; cp. ih. 257. . ... full-formed Minervas. The legend is really of Athena, not Minen-a. See Hesiod, Thcog., 1144-48. Valpy. 27 •>> Gleams of an ethereal Love. See 171 15. 2> a. Mephistopheles. 1 he tempter and mocker in the Faust legend. The allusion is to Goethe's drama, which had not yet been popularized by opera and adaptation. See Essays., Goethe's Heletia, I If.' as we mentioned. See 12 30. Seven Sleepers. The legend is that seven Christian ,....i...^ of Kphcsus, rtecing from the Decian persecution, took refuge in a cave and then fell asleep for three hundred and sixty years. See Karing-(Jould, Curious Myths of the Middle Ages ; John Koch, Die I . ./... •■hlafer-Ugende. : i'l. Jean Paul's doing. Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, (ierman humorist (1763-1S25). See Carlyle's essay, Edinburgh Review, No. 91, 1S27. — The large-bodied Poet. Carlyle calls him "A hugf, irregular man, both in mind and person . . . full of fire, strength and impetuosity." Essays, I, 11. For Carlyle's obligations to him. see Introil. 2vS U". Extra harangues. One of Richter's whims is to interpo- late a chapter which he calls " Extra-blatt," after the manner of Swift's "digressions" in "A Tale of a Tub." I have been unable to discover any such 'proposal' as is mentioned here, in Richter. 28 3y. radiant, ever-young Apollo. This describes the laugh of Walter Welsh, .Mrs. Carlyle's maternal grandfather. "He had the prettiest laugh (once or at most twice, in my presence) that I can rcmcm!)er to have heard, — not the loudest, my own Father's still rarer l.iugh was louder far, though perhaps not more complete ; but his was all of art illery-tli under, feu de joie from all guns as the main clement ; while in Walter's there was audible something as of infinite flutes and harps, as if the vanquished themselves were invited (or c..iiH.,ll. h I., ...-t .Ice in the triumph. I remember one such laugh Bk. 1, Cap. v.] THE WORLD IN CLOTHES. 295 (quite forget about what), and how the old face looked suddenly so beautiful and young again. ' Radiant, ever-young Apollo,' etc., of Teufelsdrockh's laugh is a reminiscence of that." Rem., I, 153. i/_l 28 34. Tattersall's. A famous long-established horse-market and stable in London. 29 8. Richter. See 28 21-25, n. '%>,^ 29 20. fit for treasons. The man that hath not music in himself. Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils. Merchant of Vetiice, v. i , 83 ff . 29 25. total want of arrangement. Carlyle's device to forestall criticism of the apparent confusion in the plan of Sartor. 3^ . 30 10. Montesquieu. Charles de Secondat, Baron de la Brede et de Montesquieu (1689-1755), celebrated French writer on politics and law ; author of Lettres Persanes (1721), Considerations sur les Causes de la Grandeiir des Romains et de lenr Decade/ice (1734), Esprit des Lois (1734). Carlyle wrote a life of Montesquieu for Brewster's Edinlnirgh Eficyclopaedia. See E. Lett., 12,2, 135, 144. — Spirit of Laws. The most popular and original book ever pub- lished on the subject of law. Twenty-two editions were exhausted in two years. "The Spirit of Laws was published in 1748, with a truly prodigious effect. It coloured the whole of the social litera- ture in France during the rest of the century." J. Morley, Rousseau^ I, 189. Lond., 1873. 30 12. Esprit de Coutumes. Pun. Coutnme means law. We have in Quebec the old code called the Coutume de Paris. ' Cou- tume ' and ' costume ' are forms of the same word. See Littre, Costume ; cp. 202 20. 31 1. Anglo-Dandiacal. Carlyle's coinage; "pertaining to the English dandy." " I say in spite of all Dandiacal Philosophers, and Outer-house Sages, this is, was and forever will be True!" Lett.^ 201 ; cp. C. E. L., II, 181, 236, and bk. iii. cap. x., passifn. 31 2-3. drab . . . scarlet. The colors are not chosen at ran- dom. The Quakers who abhor war dress in drab ; while for nearly three centuries the British soldier's uniform has been red. 31 17. nay, what is. For variation of same thought cp. 234 21. 32 4. Library . . . useful Knowledge. The title of The Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge was sometimes modified by its enemies, "for the Confusion of Useless Knowledge." Such e XOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. V. ,>,,„». of populariziim knowledge were distrusted by Carlyle. ng note. 32 - 'at present.' See S 29, n. J> ;. cabalistico-sartorial. Carlyle's coinage. Not in the irio. Kquivalent (perhaps) to " mysteriously-relating-to-the- ^ art." or •' pcrtaining-to-the-sacred-mysteries-of-tailordom." ,_ .G. Lilis. < 'r I ililh. ♦.N't .1 dr.ij) III ficr Diooci was human, But she was made like a soft, sweet womaA. D. G. RossETTi, Eden Bower. •* Adam is fabled by the Talmudists to have had a wife before Eve : she was called Lilith, and their progeny was all manner of aquatic and aerial — devils. — Burton." /(^/zr/zr?/, Dec. 7, 1S26. C. E. /.., I, 3S5 ; c^. Anatomy of Melancholy, Part. I, Sec. 2, Mem. i, Subs. 2; Faust, Walpurf^suacht. "il 31. Adam-Kadmon. The Chaldaic name for the book of (icncsis is "b* Cadmin," in the beginning, or"Cadmon," begin- ni ' I the opening words of the first chapter of Genesis. A' .'.non Is the primitive and ideal man of the Cabalists. '• Der L'rmensch ist das Prototyp der ganzen Schopfung, der Inbe- pr' ' Wesen, der Makrokosmus, die Ewige Weisheit ; er ist d.i . , was von Andern Logos oder Wort genannt wird." Albert Slockl, Cesch, der Pltilos. des Mittelalters, II, 235. Mainz, 1865. 32 28. Nifl and Muspel. " Before the world itself, in the begin- ning, its foundation existed. . . . The existing things were cold and heat, ice and light. Towards the north lay Niflheim, towards the south Muspellheim. Xiflheim (from nifl, Ger. Nebel, Lat, nebula, (Jr. x^/Xtj) signifies the home or -world of mist . . . Mus- pellheim, it may be supposed, betokened (in contradistinction to Nitlhcim) fAe roorld of lights warmth, fire'' Thorpe, Northern Mytholos^y, I, 13S. Ix>nd., 1S51. Muspel occurs in O. Sax.; cp. HeUand, passim, and O. H. G. fragment on Doomsday, Muspilli. M tr.» Babel. See Gen. xi. 1-9. M 'Mi. habilable. That can wear clothes. Characteristic jingle ■i!ul pun. M 3<. Orbis pictus. A book printed by the educational reformer, « ..mcnius (i59.'-i67i), at Xurnberg, in 1657, containing pictures, names and descriptions of the affairs of life. Goethe mentions it as one of the books permitted to him, as a child ; so does Richter. Orhis Vestttus translates the title of this chapter. - A whole orbis Bk. I, Cap. v.] THE WORLD IN CLOTHES. 297 pictns or ficttis of Nurnberg puppets." Quintus Fixlein. C. -Trans., II, 212. ZZ 5. Hoard of King Nibelung. Carlyle reviewed Simrock's translation of the Middle High German epic, the Nibelungenlied, in The Westminster Review, No. 29, 1831. He had read the work during the previous summer. See Lett., 164. Here he is quoting from memory and makes an unimportant slip. The passage referred to is in the Nineteenth Abenteuer, and runs thus in Simrock (p. 183. Stuttgart, 1885) : Nun mogt ihr von dem Horte Wunder horen sagen : Zwolf Leiterwagen konnten ihn kaum von dannen tragen In vier Tag und Nachten aus des Berges Schacht, Hatten sie des Tages den Weg auch dreimal gemacht. Four days, not twelve. He translates the passage correctly; Essays, II, 312. ZZ 11. Gallia Braccata. "Gallia Narbonensis was called Brac- cata, on account of the peculiar covering of the inhabitants for their thighs." Lempriere. " Narbonensis provincia appellatur pars Gallia- rum quae interno mari adluitur, Braccata antea dicta." Pliny, N'at. Hist., iii. 4 (5). \^ . 33 13. Kilmarnock nightcap. A knitted woolen cap worn in Scotland, varying slightly from the usual "bonnet." ^^-''''''^^Z^ 8-9. Decoration . . . barbarous classes. Matthew Arnold has termed the British aristocracy barbarians, and this may refer to their love of titles, orders, " decorations." ^ ^ 34 16. Out of the eater. The riddle of Samson. See Judges xiv. 14. I ' 34 24. Banyan-grove. Beneficently or harmfully. The banyan is a lapidly growing shade-tree in hot countries : the branches grow dcuaai and strike root in the ground. "Great actions are some- ("'' times historically barren ; smallest actions have taken root in the moral soil and grown like Banian forests to cover whole quarters of the world." C.-Joiir., Sept. 8, 1830 ; C. E. L., II, 91. 34 26. device of movable Types. Carlyle had contrasted these two things before. " When Tamerlane had finished building his pyramid of seventy thousand human skulls, and was seen ' standing at the gate of Damascus, glittering in steel, with his battle-axe on his shoulder,' till his fierce hosts filed out to new victories and new carnage, the pale onlooker might have fancied that Nature was in her death-throes ; for havoc and despair had taken possession of the earth, the sun of manhood seemed setting in seas of blood. Yet, it g NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. V. .... 'J.f be, on that very gala-day of Tamerlane, a little boy was play- .ite-ptns on the streets of Mentz, whose history was more mi|»..Jtant to men than that of twenty Tamerlanes. The Tartar Khan, with his .shaggy demons of the wilderness, 'passed away like a whirlwind,* to be forgotten forever ; and that German artisan has ht a benefit, which is yet immeasurably expanding itself, and ..... continue to expand itself, through all countries and through all times. What are the conquests and expeditions of the whole ation of captains, from Walter the Penniless to Napoleon .arte, compared with these 'movable types' of Johannes ' " Essays y I 'oltaire, II, 8 f . • I. Monk Schwartz's pestle. "All Histories do agree in nil-., tii.ii A (,,nniin was the Author of this Invention, but whether his Name Ik- known, or whether he was a Monk of Fribiirg, Constan- tiM Aucklitun or Hirthohiits Swartz (as some call him), a Monas- tt(k too, b not so very certain. 'T is said he was a Chymist, who sometimes for Medicines kept Powder of Sulphur in a Mortar, which he covered with a Stone. Put it happened one day as he was striking Fire, that a Spark accidentally falling into it, brake out into a Flame, and heav'd up the Stone. The man being instructed by this Contingency, and having made an Iron Pipe or Tube together with Powder, is said to have invented this Engine." Pancirolli Kftum Mirahilium IJbri Duo (Lond., 1785, p. 384). A. W. Wright, \\^qovl% Advancement of Learning, p. 305. Clar. Press, 1880. y> A. Pecunia. Cp. Skeat, AVjv;/. Z>/r/., Pecuniary. " The bar- barous times of trade by barter, when the Romans, instead of figured cattle on their leather money, drove forth the beeves themselves." Qunttiis H.xlnn, C.-Trans., II, 128. 35 %\. Tool-using Animal. Cf. 91 1. "Franklin I find twice or thrice in Hoswell. defines man as a Tool-making Animal. Teufels- dreck therefore has so far been anticipated. Vivant qui ante nos nostra dixeruntr C./onr., Jan. 1832. See Boswell's Johnson, sub ann., Apr. 7, 1778. 36 7. Laughing Animal. 'T was said of old, deny it who can, The only laughing animal is man. W. Whitehead, On Ridicule (1743). " If the old definition be true," said he, " that risibility is the dis- tinguishing characteristic of a rational animal, the English are the most distinguished for rationality of any people I know." Humphrey CViw^rr, p. 221. Ktlin., 1S06. (p. /,//.;-, No. i. Bk. I, Cap. v.] THE WORLD IN CLOTHES. 299 36 9. Teufelsdrockh himself. See 28 17 ff. \lr ' 36 11. Cooking Animal. Boswell seems to adopt this definition as his own. " My definition of man is ' a cooking animal.' The beasts have memory, judgment, and all the faculties and passions of our minds in a certain degree; but no beast is a cook." A Tour to the Hebrides, p. 15, n. Lond., Routledge, N. U. ^j y 36 13. readies his steak. ILudihras was one of Carlyle's favorite f books, and he may have got the illustration there. Butler does not state this peculiarity so delicately. See Hudibras, I, ii. 265-278. 36 17. Monsieur Ude. Louis Eustache Ude, a famous French cook of the time. His portrait is number twenty-five in the Eraser series, which accounts for Carlyle's reference. A brief but vague account of him is given by W. Bates in The Maclise Portrait Gal- lery, p. 114 ff. Lond., 1891. — Orinocco Indians. "At the period n^ of these inundations, which last two or three months, the Otomacs swallow a prodigious quantity of earth. We found heaps of balls in their huts, piled up in pyramids three or four feet high. These balls were five or six inches in diameter. The earth which the Otomacs eat, is a very fine and unctuous clay, of a yellowish gray colour ; and being slightly baked in the fire, the hardened crust has a tint inclining to red, owing to the oxide of iron which is mingled in it." Humboldt, Personal N'arrative, vol. v. p. 641. Lond., 1821. See Lett., iSr. ^^- 36 29. Liverpool Steam-carriages. Stephenson's invention im- pressed deeply the thinking men of the time. One of the best lines in Locksley Hall, " Let the great world, etc.," was suggested by it. The first road ran from Liverpool to Manchester, and was opened Sept. 15, 1S30. Cp. 45 6, n. 37 5. stout old Gao. " We are told, that when the oppression and injustice of Zahak had continued a long time, Gavah of Isfahan, two of whose sons had been put to death by the tyrant, closed the door of his forge, and opened the gates of rebellion in the face of Zahak : he took from his waist the piece of leather worn by black- smiths, when at work, about the loins, and fixed it on a pole : through the tyranny and excessive violence of the king, he cried aloud, and excited the people to revolt. . . . Gavah, at the head of the troops placed under the shadow of his valour, traversed the civilized world during the space of nearly twenty years, subduing every country he entered, and overcoming every monarch whom he encountered ; and completely purified the surface of the earth from the contami- nation of all opposed to the king or hostile to his prosperity. In "f .VOTES. [Hk. I, Cap. VI. All hU battles, he kept with him the piece of leather which had been fixed on a pole at the time of his heading the insurrection against ' / ik ; which was ever after known by the name of Gavah's ban- V the clevaUon and unfurling of which he displayed the happy guarantee and omen of success in every battle-field. . . . When his !iment had continued ten years, the volume of his life became ; up with the signature of the indispensable doom, and the Meed of his existence fell headlong through the conflicting accidents of lime. Fcrid«.on was afflicted on learning this dreadful event, and expressed the greatest sorrow for his death : the ministers of state, the nobles of the kingdom, and the commanders of the troops, I, • luring seven days. The king also sent orders to Isfahan t, ,ip the estate and chattels of Gavah to his heirs ; except- ing the banner of Gavah, which he demanded, and, having orna- mcnte. ..n she was carrying, against her husband's wishes, a ^'•' ' ""' '" '''•" !^"orat her gates. C)n being surprised by him, V r.k. I, Cap. Vl.l APRONS. -oj she hid the basket under her apron and declared that she had been gathering roses. Her husband pulled the apron aside and found the food miraculously changed to roses. Carlyle found the legend told at length in Musaeus' Melechsala, C. -Trans., I. 107. 37 26. sheet-iron Aprons. See 256 5, and E. Lett., 313. 38 12. tucked-in the corner. " The cassock which entirely hides the ordinary dress is emblematical of the spirit of recollection and devotion which becomes those who serve in the sanctuary." Charles Walker, The Ritual Reason Why, p. 34; 2d ed. Lond., 1868. " The Cassock or Priest's cassock is single-breasted and fastened from the throat to the feet by numerous buttons extending the A^hole length. At the back the cassock is very full, from the loins downwards, and sometimes trails a considerable length on the ground. It has a narrow upright collar, and close sleeves. It is bound round the waist with a band a yard and a-half long and three mches broad called a Cincture. The recent English Cassock is sometimes folded over in front, and kept close by the Cincture." Rev. F. G. Lees, Directoriiim Anglicajmm, p. 17 f. Lond., 1866. 38 17. printed Paper Aprons. " It was also this respect for all ivaste-paper that inspired him with such esteem for the aprons of French cooks, which it is well known consist of printed paper ; and he often wished some German would translate these aprons : indeed I am willing to believe that a good version of more than one of such paper aprons might contribute to elevate our Literature (this Muse a belles /esses), and serve her in place of drivel bib." Qiiinfiis Fixlein, C.-Trans., 11, 123. 39 5. Fountain-of-motion. This is apparently Carlyle's own coinage. 39 11. The Journalists. " The only sovereigns of the world in these days are the literary men (were there any such in Britain) — the prophets. It is always a theocracy: the king has to be anointed by the priest ; and now the priest, the Goethe for example, will not, cannot consecrate the existing king who therefore is a usurper, and reigns only by sufferance." Carlyle's Journal, C. E. L., II, 97. " The true Church of England, at this moment, lies in the Editors of its Newspapers. These preach to the people daily, weekly ; admon- ishing kings themselves ; advising peace or war, with an authority which only the first Reformers, and a long-past class of Popes, were possessed of ; inflicting moral censure ; imparting moral encourage- ment, consolation, edification; in all ways diligently 'administering the Discipline of the Church.' It may be said, too, that in private NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. VI. 302 dUpotiiion the new Preachers somewhat resemble the Mendicant J.., I times: outwardly full of holy zeal ; inwardly not with- oi,; ...„',m, and hunger for terrestrial things." Essays, Signs of thf Times, n, 156; cp. 229 \- V; M. Stamped Broad-Sheet. I he Stamp Act came in force 171,'. and ctmtinucd in force for a century and a half. The stamp it»clf was red, and the de.sign consisted of the rose, thistle and shamroik. surmounted by the royal crown. See '^w'xh'?, Journal to •-'■:• fan. 31, 1710-11. and the Sf^cctator, July 31, 1712. Satan's Invisible World. There are several books on wiichcraft with titles like this: "The Wonders of the Invisible World." by Cotton Mather, Iloston, 1692 ; " A View of the Invisible World, or (Jcneral History of Apparitions," London, 1752 ; " Satan's Invisible World Discovered, or a Choice Collection of Modern Relations," by Ceorge Sinclair, Edinburgh, 1780. The reference to the "old authentic Presbyterian Witchfinder" shows that Carlyle was thinking of Cotton Mather and confused his book with Sin- clair's. *' The New-Kngland Puritan burns witches, wrestles for months with the horrors of Satan's invisible world, and all ghastly phan- ta.sms, the daily and hourly precursors of the Last Day ; then suddenly Ix'thinks him that he is frantic, weeps bitterly, prays con- tritely, and the history of that gloomy season lies behind him like a frightful drf.im." /-..r.f.n'j-, II, 136; cp. id., I, 162. 3V Oj. good Homer. Those oft are stratagems which error seem, Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream. Pope, Essay oti Criticism, 1. 179 f. — quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus. Horace, Ars Poetica, 1. 359. •»0 fi. Beggaring all fancy. " Some of my readers may require to be informed that Jacques Callot was a Lorraine painter of the seventeenth century ; a wild genius, whose Temptation of St. An- thoMY is said to exceed, in chaotic incoherence, that of Teniers him- s*-lf." Essays, K. T. W. Hoffmann, I, Appendix, p. 437, n.— Teniers, David (1610 1690). There were two of this name; the reference Ls to the younger. He is noted for his painting of Flemish pea-^anls drinking, dancing, etc. — Callot, J. (1593-1635). A French cnRraver. f.-imous for grouping large numbers of figures in a small »|)acc. Carlyle knew Callot probably from Hoffmann's Eantasie-. Bk. I, Cap. VII.] MISCELLANEOUS-HISTORICAL. 303 Stucke in Callofs Manier, one of which, Der Goldne Top/, was included in German Rotnance. 40 9. touched not seldom. Cp. 5 30, n. f' 40 15. Merrick's valuable Work. The name is Meyrick, Samuel Rush. Ilis book, A critical Inquiry into Ancient Armour (London, 1824, 3 vols.), is praised by Scott and the Edinburgh Rcvieiv. 40 18. Paulinus. The name should be Paullini, Christian Franz (1643-1712), a compiler, says Brockhaus, of the most tasteless books. He is the author of Philosophischc Luststunden oder Curi- ositdten, 2 Hieile, Frankfurt, 1709, and Zcitkilrzendc crbauliche Lust. Franckfurt a. M., 1695, 1722 ; 3 vols. Carlyle spells it Paullinus in Eraser, but in subsequent editions one '1' is dropped. Graesse makes the same mistake. 40 20. Did we behold. See 41 14, n. 40 30. find his place. Tennyson expands the same thought : " — Could the dead, whose dying eyes Were closed with wail, resume their life They would but find in child and wife An iron welcome when they rise. " But if they came who passed away, Behold their brides in other hands ; The hard heir strides about the lands And will not yield them for a day." In Menwriatn, xc. 41 14. Teusinke. From the context this seems to have been a name for the fashionable "bell-girdle" described below. The pas- sage in quotation marks is freely translated from the authority cited, with interpolations of Carlyle's own. "Anno 1672, 28 April, ward alhie, wie weit und breit sonst, ein gross Feurzeichen des Abends in der Lufft gesehen. Wenn wir die Tracht der domaligen Stadt jetzo sehen solten, wlirden wir driiber lachen, und wenn die verfaulte Welt unsren Plunder sehe, wiirde sie sich kreutzigen und segnen. Die reichen Leute hatten Teusincke urn, war ein silberner Gurtel, da hiengen Glocklein an, wenn einer gieng, so schellte es um ihn her. Das Manns-Volk hatte Kappen, da waren wollene Traddeln dran Ehlen lang, und setzen die iiber eine Seiten. Ihre Schuh waren forn spitzig fast Ehlen lang, und auf den Seiten geschniirt mit Schniiren, und Holz-Schuhe mit Schnacken auch Ehlen lang, Ja einige machten forn an die Spit- seu 3ch§nen. Auch hatt§n die Manner Hggen ohn« Ge§^s9, bmiden jVOTES. [F.k. I, Cap. VII. „.|. K^ iremMer. Die reichen Jungfrauen hatten Rocke •ten hintcn und forn, dass die Brust und Riicken fast ;,..,.> »a. Auch warcn die Rocke geflugelt, und auf den Seiten Crfoftfft Ktliche. damit sie schmahl blieben, schniirten sich so .11 sie umspannen mochte. Die Adelichen Frauen ......uizte Rocke, 4 oder 5 Ehlen lang, so die Knaben I)ic Frauen und Magde hatten an Rocken dopple dttcke >4ume Hand hreit. die reichen Weiber silbeme Kneuffen, o<^ ' •,. sill>eme Schalen an Rocken, von oben biss auf die S, Ma^de trugen Haarbander von Silber und ubergoldte Spangen und hangende Flammen zum Geschmuck auf den Haup- tem. Die NVeif)er trugen auch lange Mantel mit Fallen, unten welt, mil cincni /wiefachen Saum handbreit, oben mit einem diicken gettarckten Kragen anderthalb Schuh lang, und hiessen Kragen- Mantel. Die Kriegs-Kii.stung war eine Armbrust mit einem Stegreiff. Kbcn das ward, wenn mans spaniite, eingetreten mit einem Instru- ment, das hiess ein Krieck, gemacht von starcken Riemen oder Seydcn und eisernen Hacken. Auch war ein Kleid, das hiess Jegke, gemacht von dopplem Harchent, mit Baumvollen gefiillt und durchstcppt sehr duck, dass nicht leicht ein Pfeil durchschiessen konte ; auch ein holtzem Schildt oder ein Brust-P2isen, oben breit, mitten rund, und etwas erhaben, unten fast spitzig, auswendig gemahlt, inwendig mit einem Riemen, da mans konte bey tragen. Auch hatten sie Wamster von Harchent, mitten waren dopple Kragen vnn Tuch nut Teich zusammen gekleistert, und kurtze Rocke mit /wci Kalten, kaum wurde der Ilinterste damit bedeckt. Das war damah die Kreutzburgische Kleider-Mode." C. F. PauUini, Zeii- kurtzfHiie frh.itiliihe Lust, II, 67S. Franckfurt am Mayn, 1722. 41 .11. Rich maidens. See previous note. Brave Cleopatras : Tlic \i\rf,it slie sat in, like a burnished throne, Hum'd on the water : . . . on each side her .Si.M.a pr, tiv dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, at the helm A w^mini; merm.iid steers. Antotiy atid Cleopatra, ii 2, 191 ff. ■>- 1-- doublets 01 lustian. See 41 n, n. ■♦2 y.\ Raleigh's fine mantle. See Kenilworth, cap. .w. red-painted on the nose. "Queen Elizabeth never saw 1 • fM II. ahcr .she became old. in a true glass ; they painted her and Bk. I, Cap. VII.] MISCELLANEOUS-IIISTORICAL. ^qC sometymes would vermilion her nose." Ben Jonson's Conversations with Driimmond of Hawthornden,x\\. Shakespeare Society Publi- cations. 43 j:^. luckless Courtier. The only authority for this tale I have been able to discover, is J. Bulvver, Anthropometamorphosis : Man Transformed ; or, the Artifcial Changeling. Lond., 1650. For full title of work see Diet. Nat. Biog., article Bukver. Cp. Fair- holt, Costume in England, I, 263. Lond., 1885. ^^^^ date of the costume (i6th cent.) is inconsistent with Carlyle's mention of Kaiser Otto; and this difificulty I have been unable to surmount. ^^^ ^ 43 20. Erostratus, or Eratostratus. " An Ephesian who burnt the famous temple of Diana, the same night that Alexander the Great was born. . . . Eratostratus did this villainy merely to eternize his name by so uncommon an action." Lempriere, cp. 176 3, n. Cp. Browne, Urn Burial, v. 44 (Bohn). 43 21. Milo. "A celebrated athlete of Crotona in Italy. . . . It is said that he carried on his shoulders a young bullock 4 years old, for about 40 yards, and afterv^rards killed it with one blow of his fist, and eat it up in one day." Lempriere : cp. Browne, Pseu- dodox. Epidem., bk. VII, cap. xviii. — Henry Darnley. The second husband of Mary Queen of Scots. " Robertson, one of the best of those historians, imagines Mary to have been captivated by his gigantic fgure ; yet, let us recollect, that Darnley was, merely, a long lad of nineteen. Sir James Melvill, who was present in Weemys castle, however, informs us, "that the Queen took very well with him, and said to Melvill, on the same day, that Darnley was the properest and best proportioned long ?nan that she had ever seen." Chalmers, Life of Mary Qneen of Scots, I, 201. Lond., 1822. " Last night I sat up very late reading Scott's ' History of Scotland.' . . . Strange that a man should think that he was writing the history of a nation while he is chronicling the amours of a wanton young woman called queen, and a sulky booby recommended to kingship for his fine limbs, and then blown up with gunpowder for his ill behaviour ! " Journal, C. E. L., II, 89. 43 24. 'Boileau Desprdaux. Nicolas Boileau (1636-17 11), famous French critic and poet. " On lit, dans I'Annee litteraire, que Boileau, encore enfant, jouant dans une cour, tomba. Dans sa chute, sa jaquette se retrousse ; un dindon lui donne plusieurs coups de bee sur une partie tres delicate. Boileau en fut toute sa vie incommode : et de-la, peut-etre, cette severite de moeurs, cette disette de senti- ment qu'on remarque dans tous ses ouvrages ; de-la sa satyre contre t XOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. VIII. 306 les femme*. centre Lulli. Quinault, et centre toutes les poesies nlantes. Peut-ctre son antipathic contre les dindons occasiona- l die Tavcrsion secrete qu'il eut toujours pour les jesuites qui les ont apportcs en France. . . ." Helvetius, De r Esprit, Discours Ill.Ch. I. note {a). prayer of Themistocles. • < icero has preserved another jymgs. which (ieservts mentioning. When Simonides offered I., trach Themi-stocles the art of memory, he answered, 'Ah, rather leach mc the art of forgetting ; for I often remember what I would not, and cannot forget what I would.' " Langhorne's Plutarch, p. 91. n. N. Y., 1868. Cicero, De Orat., II, cap. 74, § 299, and cap. 86, $§.'51 53: cp. r. /■:. /.. I, 203. 44 I. Bolivar's Cavalry. Simon Bolivar (1783-1S30), the South American Washington. He led the Spanish states in their success- ful rel)ellion against Spain from 1812 to 1824. "A blanket of about a yard square, with a hole, or rather slit, cut in the centre, through which the wearer thrusts his head, falls on each side of his shoulders ihu-s covering his body, and leaving his bare arms at perfect liberty to manage his horse, or mule and lance." G. Hippisley, A N'ai-ra- tiX't cf the Expedition to the Rivers Orinoco and Apure, p. 415. I^nd., 1819. Cp. Essays, IV, 340 f. 44 II. Old-Roman contempt. For example, the costume of Cincinnatus wlien the deputation from the Senate found him at the plow. See livy, III, 26. 44 13. Descriptive-Historical. See 29 30. ^> A. founded on Cloth. See 53 34. 45 6. Faust's mantle. Faust. Wic kommen wir denn aus dem Haus ? Wo hast du Pferde, Knecht und Wagen ? Mehhistopheles. Wir brciten nur den Mantel aus, Dcr 5t)ll uns durch die Liifte tragen. Faust, I, iv. end. iVjicribing his .sensations on his first railway journey, Carlyle says, "f)ut of one vehicle into another, snorting, roaring we flew: the likest thing to a Faust's flight on the Devil's Mantle." C. L, Z., I, 179; cp. 36 99, n. See C.-Trans., II, 82. '-' " Apostle's Preara. See Acts x. io-i6, Bk. I, Cap. VIII.] WORLD OUT OF CLOTHES. 307 45 9. inane limboes. See Orlando Furioso^ Cant, xxxiv., the Limbo of Vanity. Deep in a vale, conducted by his guide, Where rose a mountain steep on either side, He came and saw (a wonder to relate) Whate'er was wasted in our earthly state Here safely treasured : each neglected good ; Time squander'd, or occasion ill-bestow'd. Hoole's Translation, 11. 562-567. ^ 45 22. a mighty maze. Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man ; A mighty maze I but not without a plan. Pope, Essay on Man, i. 5 f. 45 26. Biographical Documents. See 23 18, n. 46 3, 4. utmost verge. For similar thought see Tennyson's Ulysses, the closing lines. Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars until I die. It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles. 46 12. das Wesen. For an example of an ' Ich ' naming itself, see Essays, II, 177. 46 23. Cogito. The famous phrase of Descartes (1596-1650): ' Ac proinde haec cognitio, ego cogito, ergo sum, est omnium prima et certissima, quae cuilibet ordine philosophanti occurrat.' l^rin- cipia Philosophiae, I, 7 and 10. Amsterdam, 1650. 46 31. Dream-grotto. Apparently an allusion to the famous cave of Plato. Republic, Bk. VII. 47 3. Creation says. See Essays, Richter, II, 224. 47 9. a net quotient. For similar mathematical figure, see 1J6 24, and n.; also 173 28. 47 11. Moscow Retreats. In 1811-12, Napoleon invaded Russia with 600,000 men, reached Moscow, and by the destruction of the city was compelled to retreat in the midst of winter. The conse- quent suffering and loss of life were terrible. 47 17. right hand. See Jonah iv. 11. 47 20. the Sphinx's secret. "The riddle proposed by the Sphinx ran in these terms : ' What creature is it that moves on four .VOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. VIII. . .nui.i;. .'11 two feet at noonday, and on three towards ,v*'n of the sun ? ' CEdipus, after some consideration, an.wcred that the creature was M.VN, who creeps on the ground with • <. ct when an infant, walks upright in the vigor of man- .u»s ui>on a staff in old age. Immediately the dreadful Sphinx confessed the truth of his solution by throwing herself head- ! of rock into the .sea ; her power being overthrown . ret had been detected." I)e Quincey, T/ie Sphinx's KtJMe, Collected Works, vol. XX. Boston, 1856. nothing can act. See also 48 15, n. no Space and no Time. Carlyle is among the first to popularize (lerman philosophy in England. His own exposition is of! t. . , _alist, again, boasts that his Philosphy is Transcendental, that U, 'ascending beyond the senses ' ; which, he asserts, all Philos- ophy, properly so-called, by its nature is and must be : and in this way he Is letl to various une.vpected conclusions. To a Transcen- dentalist. Matter has an existence, but only as a Phenomenon : were tiv not there, neither would it be there ; it is a mere Relation, or rather the result of a Relation between our living Souls and the great Kirst Cause ; and depends for its apparent qualities on our iKxIily and mental organs ; having itself no intrinsic qualities ; being, in the common sense of that word, Nothing. The tree is green and hartl. not of its own natural virtue, but simply because my eye and my hand are fashioned so as to discern such and such appearances under such and such conditions. Nay, as an Idealist might say, even on the most popular grounds, must it not be so .' P)ring a sentient Heing with eyes a little different, with fingers ten times harder than mine ; and to him that Thing which I call Tree shall be yellow and soft, as truly as to me it is green and hard. Form his Nervous-structure in all pf)ints the reverse of mine, and this same Tree shall not l)e ccimhustible or heat-producing, but dissoluble and cold producing, not high and convex, but deep and con- cave ; shall simply have all properties exactly the reverse of those I attribute to it. There is, in fact, says Fichte, no Tree there ; but only a Manifestation of Power from something which b not /. The same is true of material Nature at large, of the whole visible Universe, with all its movements, figures, accidents and qualities ; all are Impressions produced on me by something different from me. This, we suppose, may be the foundation of what Kichte means by his far-famed Ich 2,n^Xicht-Ich (T and Not-I); Bk. I, Cap. VIII.] WORLD OUT OF CLOTHES. 309 words which, taking lodging (to use the Iludibrastic phrase) in certain ' heads that were to be let unfurnished ' occasioned a hollow echo, as of Laughter from the empty Apartments ; though the words are in themselves quite harmless, and may represent the basis of a metaphysical Philosophy as fitly as any other words. But farther, and what is still stranger than such Idealism, according to these Kantean systems, the organs of the Mind too, what is called the Understanding, are of no less arbitrary and, as it were, acci- dental character than those of the Body. Time and Space them- selves are not external but internal entities : they have no outward existence ; there is no Time and no Space out of the mind ; they are mere forms of man's spiritual being, laivs under which his thinking nature is constituted to act. This seems the hardest conclusion of all, but it is an important one with Kant ; and is not given forth as a dogma but carefully deduced in his Critik der Reiiieii Verjiunft with great precision, and the strictest form of argument." Essays, Novalis, II, 103 f. 48 15. light-sparkles. See De Quincey, Analects from Richter, Dream on the Universe, XIII, 138. Edin., 1S63. "Nothing can act but where it is "i True — if you will — only where is it? Is not the distant, the dead, whom I love and sorrow for, Here, in the genuine spiritual sense, as really as the table I now write on t Space is a mode of our sense, so is time (this I only half understand) ; we are — we know not what — light sparkles floating in the aether of the Divinity ! " Journal, June 8, 1830, C. E. Z., II, 85 ; cp. 47 29. 4820. 'phantasy of our Dream.' Cp. 46 31, n. 48 21. Faust. Goethe's dramatic poem, published in 1808; based on the mediaeval legend of the scholar who sold his soul for supernatural power and knowledge. See Ward's Clarendon Press edition of Doctor Faustus, \vXxodi. 48 23. In Being's floods. See Faitst, I, sc. i, 11. 501-509. 49 5. Horse I ride. Though not a good horseman, Carlyle rode much all his life. See C. E. L., I, 331 n., II, 127; E. f^etf., 275, n., 280, 285, 338 ; Retn., I, 201. 49 33. Strange enough. Cp. Bk. Ill, cap., viii. for same idea expanded. 50 13. one and indivisible. The watchword of the first French Republic. Cp. 83 4. 50 20. Dutch Cows. I find that in Carlyle's time, English graziers and ' agricultural dandies ' dressed sheep in such garments. Carlyle could not have seen Gouda at this time ; but must have ,,Q A'OTES. [Bk. I, Cap. IX. _^.., ,„^ i ^.. from some book, probably from one of Richter's. See H. 11. Malkin, Chsucal Disquisitions and Curiosities, p. 431, Ixind , iSr5. who cites Sallust, ii. 47. to show that the practice was ro the ancients; and Contemp. Kei'., June, 1S97, p. S63. forked straddling animal. Cp. Lear, iii. 4. >1 i Sansculottist. Cp. 13 13, n. ' *- Adamite. ".Xdamians go naked, because Adam did so in . .'• .huitcmy 0/ Melancholy, Part 3, Sect. 4, mem. i, sub. 3, p 024. •• One I'icardus, a Frenchman, that invented a new sect of AtUmitc^i, to go naked as Adam did," ib.. Part 3, Sect. 3, mem. 4, sub. 2. p. 5S5. For Carlyle's reading in 1S26, see C. E. L., I, 385. ^l p. sattest muling. — At first, the infant Mewling and puking in his nurse's arms. As }'ou Like It, ii. 7. .>! SJ. Buck or Blocsi. Slang names for ultra-fashionable young men at various times. The Macaroni, distinguished by a roll of hair on the top of his head, made his appearance about 17S6. See Fair- holl's Jlutory of Costume, I, 391; the Incroyable in the time of the Directory. The reign of the Dandies was from about 1S13 to 1830. Hyron and I.ytton represent them among men of. letters. The Fraser portrait of Count D'Orsay preserves for later ages a sug- gestion of their splendor. Some of these words survive in current .American slang and local usage : e.g.. Buck Fansha-w's Funo'al, VaHkee Doodle. "Buck" in the compound "country-buck" and " blood " are thoroughly understood in rural Ontario. For dress of 'buck,' see D'Israeli, Curiosities of Literature, I, 422. Load., 1817. .S2 «. Horse I ride. See 49 5. 52 !•.». deep calling. Ps. .xlii. 7, adapted. .S2 16. ' sailor of the air.' " L'nd dicse Wolken die nach Mittag jagen, Sic suchen Frankreichs fenien Ozean. EileDde Wolken, Segler der Liifte — " Schiller, ^larux Stuart, iii. i. Cp. Carlylc, Life of SihtUer, p. 134. Lond., 1874. —wreck of matt'r. The soul secured in her existence smiles At the drawn dagger and defies its point. The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Cniw dim with age, and nature sink in years ; But thou shah flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amid the war of elements, The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds. AuDisON, Cato, i. I. Bk. I, Cap. IX.] ADAMITISM. ^ j j 52 25. * Aboriginal Savages.' Cp. 33 22. 52 28. * matted cloak.' See 33 25.— ' natural fell,' ib., 26. 52 31. 'so tailorise.' See 50 is. f^ 53 3. *as a Sign.' Luke ii. 34, and elsewhere : ^'for a sign." Carlyle often adapts unconsciously when quoting. The first Quakers in New England sometimes preached naked. See Long- fellow, JoIiJi E7idicott, i. I ; and Proceed. Mass. Hist. Soc. xviii. 300. 53 4. old Adamites. See 51 6, n. •d 53 10. You see. "You see two men fronting each other. One sits dressed in red cloth, the other stands dressed in threadbare blue; the first says to the other, ' Be hanged and anatomised ! ' and it is forthwith put in execution till Number Two is a skeleton. Whence comes it .-* These men have no physical hold of each other ; they are not in contact. Each of the bailiffs, etc., is in his own skin, and not hooked to any other. The reason is, Man is a Spirit. Invisible influences run through Society, and make it a mysterious whole full of life and inscrutable activities and capabilities." Journal., June 8, 1830. C. E. L., II, 85. 53 17. nothing can act. See 47 29. 53 34. founded upon Cloth. See 45 4. 54 1. often in my atrabiliar moods. " Often when I read of pompous ceremonials, drawing-room levees, and coronations, on a sudden the clothes fly off the whole party in my fancy, and they stand there in a half ludicrous, half horrid condition." Journal, Aug. 1830. C ^. Z., II, 86. 54 2. Frankfort Coronations. The coronation of Archduke Joseph at Frankfort a. M., 1764. See Goethe, Aus meinem Leben, Th. I, Bh. 5. '-The opera seria of a Frankfort Coronation." C. -Trans., II, 161. 54 2. Royal drawing-rooms. Presentation at the English court. 54 3. Levees, couchees. The formal receptions by Louis XIV. of his courtiers on rising from bed in the morning, and on retiring at night. 54 32. Haupt- und Staats-Action. A kind of drama first intro- duced at Dresden by Velthin in the 17th cent., corresponding to our Heroic drama of the Restoration. See Faust, sc. i, 1. 583, for the word. 54 33. Pickleherring. Clown, a word brought to Germany by the English Comedians, according to Kluge. 54 34. the tables. Solventur risu tabulae. Hor. Sat. ii. i. 86. The indictment will be laughed out of court. 12 NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. IX. v> 4. Windlestraw. Wellington ? The Iron Duke was in 1S30 the \ycs\ abused nuin in England. He had to barricade his house in I^ndon to prevent mob violence, on account of his opposition to Kc(..rm. 55 p. infandum. Xavibus (infandum !) amissis. Ain. i. 251. •• ( >f all the deplorables and despicables of this city and time, the fcaddc-st are the * literary men.' Infandufn ! Infandum ! " C E. L., II. 191. 55 II. a forked radish. "When he was naked, he was for all the world like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife." I/tnry IV. b. iii. 2. 55 13. St. Stephen's. St. Stephen's Hall, on the site of St. Stephen's chapel, part of the House of Commons. 55 15. Bed of Justice. Lit de Justice, a French court for registering the king's decrees. Jean Paul also puns on the word. •• Therefore I again wrapped myself in my passive tit de justice^ S*'• ^•' 1S62. - Arachne. A famous man. She was defeated in a trial of skill by Minerva and i,i^....w into a spider. See Lcmpriirc. 60 3. Wonder. '• Wonder is the basis of worship ; the reign of wonder is |K-rennial, indestructible ; only at certain seasons (as the present) it b (for some short season) /;/ partibtis tnfideliumr Jotcr- «j;. JuncS, 1830. C.E.U 11,86. 60 7. in partibus infidelium. A term applied in the Romish ^ i 1. .Q "A bishop consecrated to a see which formerly existed, :i has been, chiefly through the devastations of the follow- er* ot Mahomet, lost to Christendom." Catholic Dictionary, N. V., 1S84. under Hishop. See also 60 3, n. 60 19. the Doctor's. See Lane's Thousand and One iVights, I, 78 ff. (I^ndon, 1841); and also il>. Ill, 118 ff. 60 rw. logic-chopper. How now ? how now, chop-logic? . . . * Proud ' and ' I tliank you,' and again ' not proud.' Romeo atid Jidiet, iii. 5. 60 34. Mechanics' Institute. This form of workman's college in the beginning of its bloom-period. Cp. The Princess, ; _ -,. .ning. 61 I. Old-Roman geese. Rome was taken by the Gauls B.C. 390. but some of the citizens held out in the Capitol. The Gauls attempted a surprise, but the defenders were aroused by the clamor of the geese sacred to Juno, and the besiegers were beaten off. See l.hy, V, 47. 61 i'->. Royal Societies. See 2 3, n. — M6canique Celeste. See 1 16, n. 61 n. Hegel's Philosophy. See 11 14, n. 61 18. Thou wilt have. "Thou wilt have no mystery and mysticism ; wilt live in the daylight (rushlight ?) of truth, and see thy world and understand it. Xay, thou wilt laugh at all that l>clieve in a mystery ; to whom the universe is an oracle and temple, as well as a kitchen and cattle-stall .> Arvier Teiifel ! Doth not thy cow calve, doth not thy bull gender >. Nay, peradventure, dost not thou thyself gender .> K.xplain me that, or do one of two things : retire into private places with thy foolish cackle; or, what were better, give it up and weep, not that the world is mean and disen- chanted and prosaic, but that thou art vain and blind." foiofial, Bk. I, Cap. XL] PROSPECTIVE. 2 1 r June 8, 1830. C. E. Z., II, 85 f.; cp. also Essays, Signs of the Times, II, 154. 61 20. Attorney Logic. "That mere faculty of logic which belongs to ' all attorneys and men educated in Edinburgh.' " Essays, Nova lis, II, 81. 61 30. Armer Teufel ! Poor beggar ! Carlyle bestowed this name on Lamb. See C. E. L., II, 215. —Doth not thy cow. Job xxi. 10, adapted. 62 Q. Dilettante. Carlylese for idler. "The sin of this age is Dilettantism ; the Whigs and all ' moderate Tories ' are the grand Dilettanti. I begin to feel less and less of patience for them. This is no world where a man should stand trimming his whiskers, look- ing on at work, or touching it with the point of a gloved finger. Man sollte greifen zn I There is more hope of an Atheist Utilita- rian, of a Superstitious Ultra, than of such a lukewarm withered mongrel. He would not believe tho' one rose from the dead. He is wedded to his idols, let him alone." C.-Jour.; cp. C. E. L., II, 92. Goethe expresses in calmer fashion his dislike to Dilettantism. Sdmmt. IVerke, xiii. 254-270. Stuttgart, 1S73. 62 8. an Elysian brightness. His demum exactis, perfecto munere divae, Devenere locos laetos, et amoena vireta Fortunatorum nemorum, sedesque beatas. Largior hie campos aetlier et lumine vestit Purpureo. /Eneid, vi. 637 £f. 62 12. Pandemonian lava. — Till on dry land He lights ; if it were land that ever burned With solid, as the lake with liquid fire. Par. Lost, i. 227 ff. See also ib., 1. 296. 62 21. If I take. See Ps. cxxxix. 9 ; not quoted exactly. 64 8. All visible things. See Bk. Ill, cap. iii. The thought is Goethean. " Die Idee ist ewig und einzig ; dass wir auch den Plural brauchen ist nicht wohlgethan. Alles, was wir gewahr werden und wovon wir reden konnen, sind nur Manifestationen der Idee." Maximen n. Reflexioneu, III. 64 23. clothed with Authority. But man, proud man Drest in a little brief authority. Measure for Measure, ii. 2. , NOTES. [Bk. I, Cap. XI. Array ihyscii wan glory and beauty. Job xl. lo ; For thou lust fashioned him a manellous work And clothed him in the garment of thy Beauty. Kouig Ottokar, German Playwrights, Es, •ays, I, 375- As he cloihcd himself with cursing like as with his garment. Ps. cix. ' M ay. with a Body. Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and ha5t fenced mc with bones and sinews. Job x. ii ; cp. 2 Cor. V. 1-4. (y\ 3,1. Metaphors. In 1822, Carlyle was readmg Milton s prose works, and comments thus upon his style: " As to this metaphori- cal talent, it is the first characteristic of genius — tho' not the only one, or an indispensable one ; see Alfieri. It denotes an inward eye quick to perceive the relations and analogies of things ; a ready memory to furnish them when occasion demands ; and a sense of propriety and beauty to select what is best, from the immense store so furnished. There is far more in it than this : but what — I have not time or power to say." C.-Joiir., p. 14. Carlyle admires in Milton the qualities for which he himself is distinguished. " Du gleichst dem Ceist. den du begreifst." 65 7. An unmetaphorical style. "All language but that con- cerning sensual objects is or has been figurative. Prodigious influ- ence of metaphors ! Never saw into it till lately." Journal, Aug. 5. 1829. C. /'.'. /., II, 7^- 65 13. as in my own case. Here, as elsewhere, Carlyle shows that he is conscious of his own peculiar powers. 65 3:>. Heavens and the Earth. Ps. cii. 25,26; freely adapted. 66 11. Scottish Hamburg Merchant. It was through Messrs. Parish & Co. of Hamburg that the various packets of books, etc., were transmitted between Goethe and Carlyle. See G.-Corr., 30, 40. iS2. 117, etc. "The Teiifelsdrockh I instantly despatched to Hamljurg. to a Scottish merchant there, to whom there is an allusion in the Hook ; who used to be my S/'cul/lor (one of the politest extant, though totally a stranger) in my missions and packages to and from Weimar." Carlyle, Correspotidencc with Emerson, I, no. See also 1/., Ill, n. 6^) 23. long-winded Letter. This elaborate preparation is requisite to justify the introduction of Bk. II, which is Wotton Kfinfred, his imfinished novel. Bk. I, Cap. XI.] PROSPECTIVE. 317 67 13. man is properly. Slightly varied from Pope's line, "The proper study of mankind is man." Essay on Alafiy ii. 2 ; cp. 103 34, n. 67 21. By this time. This entire paragraph anticipates the love story of Bk. II, and gives it in outline. 68 7. sloughs. The Slough of Despond. Pilgrini's Progress. — Pisgah hills. See Deut. xxxiv. 1-4. 68 8. Hebron. See i Chron. xxix. 27. King David's residence. 68 9. Old-Clothes Jewry. His whimsical twist to Old Jewry, a well-known street in London running off Cheapside, formerly the Ghetto, now a resort of lawyers. See Stow, A Survey of London, p. 271. Carisbrooke Library, London, 1890. Cp. 219 11 ff. 68 14. fallen among thieves. See Luke x. 30. 68 20. sympathetic-ink. Carlyle met Dr. Chalmers at Glasgow, when Irving was his assistant there. On one occasion he talked earnestly, for a good while, on some scheme he had for proving Christianity by its visible fitness for human nature: "all written in us already," he said, " as in sympathetic ink ; Bible awakens it, and you can read." Rem., II, ']y 69 3. fullest insight. See 68 29. — Paper Bags. Emerson is said to have used such bags to hold detached thoughts on separate slips of paper, which were afterwards embodied in his essays. 69 27. *P. P. Clerk of this Parish.' Memoirs of. By Jno. Arbuthnot (1675-1735), in ridicule of Burnet's History of My Own Tijnes ; a chronicling of very small beer. " Alas, all Universal His- tory is but a sort of Parish History; which the ' P. P. Clerk of this Parish,' member of 'our Alehouse Club' (instituted for what ' Psalmody' is in request there), puts together, — in such sort as his fellow-members will praise." Essays, On History Agaiit, III, 248. See also Lett., 245 f., n. 69 31. confusion. See 21 25, n. 69 33. marked bezahlt. Cp. 113 3i. 70 2. Street- Advertisement. Cp. 141 20. " Much also did the Quiutus collect : he had a fine Almanac Collection, a Catechism and Pamphlet Collection; 2i\?,o 2l Collection of Advertisements, which he began, is not so incomplete as you most frequently see such things." Quintus Fixlein, C. -Trans., II, ri6. 70 4. Clothes-Volume . . . Chaos. Cp. 30 2-9. 70 24. medley of high. The entire passage to the close of the paragraph is built up of allusions to Paradise Lost, ii. 890 to end. 70 30. Pontiff. Pontifex (pons + facere), bridge-maker. Skeat, NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. I. Etym nut Pontiff, a member of the highest priestly college at Rome in the first place probably for the building or maintenance of a bridge. The title has been assumed by the Bishops of Rome. Cp. 24 31. 71 1... transplanting foreign Thought. Carlyle s own work. He ar..p> the jest here and is thoroughly in earnest. 72 n. transit out of Invisibility. " In truth a man must never have reflected on the Creation-moment ... if he does not view with philo.sophic reverence a woman whose thread of life a secret all-wondrc.us Hand is spinning to a second thread, and who veils within her the transition from Nothingness to Existence, from Ktcrnity to 'lime." Kichter, Quintus Fixleiji, C. -Trans, II, 191. 72 17. Entepfuhl. Duckpond. Ecclefechan. Cp. 112 21 f. 72 ai-tj:«. Grenadier Sergeant . . . halbert. Sergeant in the grenadier or crack company. Sergeants in the line regiments of that day carried halberts or pole-axes instead of muskets. 72 22. Frederick the Great. See Macaulay's ^jj-ajj-, /^r^«Vr/V the Great, and Carlyle's hi.story. 73 1. Cincinnatus-like. I. ivy, iii. 26. 73 7. Rossbach. Town in Saxony where Frederick completely defeated a French force double his own, Nov. 5, 1757. 73 N. Kunersdorf. In August 1759. Frederick was defeated at this place by the Russians and Austrians. 73 i:.. Desdemona. She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them. Othello J i. 3. 73 "iS. Cicero . . . Cid. Types of eloquence and courage. Ruy Diaz of Hivar, the Cid (1040 circa-1099) is the national hero of .Spain. The earliest Spanish poetry relates his exploits. See Tick- nor. History of Sf'antsh Literature vol. I, pp. 12-23. ^- ^ •> l849- 73 i'l. Biisching's Geography. "Anton Friedrich Biisching, the establisher of the political-statistical method of geography. His principal work. Xiuc Erdbeschreibung, of which he has written him- self the first eleven volumes, — that is to say, Europe and a part of Asia, in the years 1754-92 — was continued after his death." L. W. C, 344, n. See also C. -Trans., II, 187. 73 afi. Rossbach. See aliove, 73 7, n. 73 37. camisade of Hochkirch. Camisade is a night attack, when the assailants wear shirts over their uniforms in order to pre- vent confusion. In the battle of Hochkirch, General Daun sur- Bk. II, Cap. I.] GENESIS. , jQ prised Frederick the Great, Oct. 14, 1758. See Carlyle, Frederick the Gj'cat, Bk. XVIII, cap. xiv. for a most graphic account of it. 73 29. house-mother. Germ. Hausmutter. 75 11. Pitt Diamond. " The most perfect brilliant in Europe." It was brought from India by Mr. Pitt, Governor of Madras, in 1702, and sold to the Regent duke of Orleans for ;^ 130,000. 75 12. Hapsburg Regalia. To preserve consistently the Ger- man coloring of the tale. 75 13. gold Friedrichs. Friedrich d'or, a Prussian gold coin worth i6j-. or 32J-. and a few pence, according as it was 'single' or ' double.' 76 2. Diogenes. See 5 13, n. 76 5. Weissnichtwo. See 5 13, n.— Things in General. See 14 28. 76 33. sudden whirls. The mystery of Teufelsdrockh's parent- age has no further bearing on the story. The incident is apparently introduced solely for the purpose of making this 'sudden whirl' and pointing out how man is surrounded by mystery from the very outset. 77 5. thy true Beginning. Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting : The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And Cometh from afar : Not in entire forgetfulness. And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home. Intonations of I fnmortality , v. 77 26. like an Ostrich. See Job xxxix. 13-17. 78 5. Devil. The slanderer, from 5ta/3dX\a>, to accuse. " Your arch fault-finder is the devil ; it is no one's trade but his to dwell on negations, to impugn the darkness and overlook the light ; and out of the glorious All itself to educe not beauty but deformity." L. IV. C, JVotton Rein/red, 92. 78 9. Walter Shandy. The whimsical, disputatious father of Tristram Shandy in Sterne's novel. " His opinion in this matter was. That there was a strange kind of magic bias, which good or bad names, as he called them, irresistibly impressed upon our charac- ters and conduct." Tristram Shandy, Bk. I, cap. xix. " It might be that, as, according to Tristram Shandy, clothes ; according to AOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. II. Waller Shandy and Lavater, proper names exert an influence on men. appellatives would do still more." Quhi^us Fixlein, C. -Trans., II. xz^y " My first favourite books had been Hudibras and Tristram Shandy." C /■•/-, I. 4"- 78 17. invisible seed-grain. See Matt. xiii. 31. 78 91. Trismegistus. " This Trismegistus, continued my father, drawing his leg buck, and turning to my uncle Toby. — was the greatest (Toby) of all earthly beings ; — he was the greatest king,— the greatest law giver, — the greatest philosopher, — and the greatest priest; — and engineer, — said my uncle Toby." Tristram Shandy, I V, cap. xi. I lermes Trismegistus, Milton's " thrice-great Hermes " (// /VwJiTtJjtJ, I. 88), the name given to the sacred writings of the Kgyptians by Neo-IMatonists. Supposed to be a king contemporary with .Moses. See Cudworth, Intellectual System, I, 540-543- I-ond., 1845. 78 --Kt. Adam's first task. See Gen. ii. 19. 78 29. Call one a thief. The nearest approach to this that I can discover is, •' Give a dog a bad name, and it's charity to hang him." 79 3. sixth Sense of Hunger. -' But in the digestive half-hour after meat, when the sixth sense, that of hunger and thirst, no longer occupied the soul," Musaeus, Stu7tnne Liebc ; C-Trans., I, y]. 79 16. Gneschen. The usual way to make pet-names in German is to take the first part of the word and add 'chen' (Eng. kin, as in manikin). In this case the last part is taken. Cp. 82 26, ' Mankin.' 50 VI. TimbuctOO . . . not safe. ' Tombuctoo ' in Fraser, and so spelled by Mungo Park. It is more than a coincidence that a |)oem with this title, written by Alfred Tennyson, an undergraduate of Trinity, won the Chancellor's Medal at the Cambridge Com- mencement in 1S29. Cp. 122 22, n. 80 2.'). prophet, priest. A reminiscence of the Shorter Cate- chism, Quest. iS. 81 4-:.. down-rushing . . . mountain. The moanings of the homeless sea, The sound of streams that, swift or slow, Draw down the .^tonian hills and sow The dust of continents to be. In Memoriavi, xxxv. 3. 51 12. Arnauld. Antoine (161 2-1694), French theologian and philosopher, the chief of the Port-Royalists, opponent of the Jesuits. The protest was made to his friend, Pierre Nicole. Bk. II, Cap. II.] IDYLLIC. 321 81 14. Nepenthe. " A drug to lull all pain and anger, and bring forgetfulness of every sorrow. Whoso should drink a draught thereof, when it is mingled in the bowl, on that day he would let no tear fall down his cheeks, not though his father and mother died." Odyssey (Butcher and Lang), iv, 219. See Cojtius, 1. 675. — Pyrrhus. A king of Epirus, 318-272 B.C. See Plutarch's Lives. Cp. 131 14, n. 81 19. everywhere are. Carlyle wrote * is.' 81 31. Kuhbach. Cow Creek or Brook. One of the tributaries of the Annan was the Milk. 82 2-3. Agora. Market-place in Greek cities, the most famous being in Athens. — Campus Martius. The field of Mars. A large field outside Rome used for athletic and military exercises. 82 4. the old men. Cp. The Deserted Village, 11. 13-32. 82 22. ' brave old Linden.' See 81 34. 82 26. the Mankin feels. See at his feet some little plan or chart, Some fragment from his dream of human life. Shaped by himself with newly learned art; A wedding or a festival, A mourning or a funeral ; And this hath now his heart, And unto this he frames his song. Then will he fit his tongue To dialogues of business, love, or strife. Intimations of I nunortality , vii. 83 4. one and indivisible. For the fashion of the garment (called "skeletons") see R. Caldecott's illustrations X.o Jackanapes. Cp. 50 13, n.; Jourrials of Caroline Fox, I, 311. Lond., 1882. 84 9. Helvetius. Claude Adrien (171 5-177 1), one of the Ency- clopaedists. De r Esprit (1758) was intended to rival Montesquieu's Esprit des Lois, and its heterodox opinions gave it a temporary and factitious importance. This doctrine is expounded in his posthu- mous work (1772), De Vhomme, de ses facultes intellectiielles et de son education. Diderot refuted it. 84 15. double-barrelled Game-preservers. Carlylese, to signify "people who preserve game and shoot it with double-barrelled guns." Cp. 101 14 ; the sneer at the end of Bk. Ill, cap. iv., the epitaph, Bk. II, cap. iv. " A man with ;^20o,ooo a year eats the whole fruit of 6,666 men's labour thro' a year ; for you can get a stout spademan to work and maintain himself for that sum of ;,^30. Thus we have private individuals whose wages are equal to the ^^ AOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. II. .sxvrs of 7 or 8 thousand other individuals. What do these highly eti individuals do to society for their wages ? A'ill Partridges. L AN this last .> No, by the soul that is in man, it cannot and will not and shall not ! " C-Jotir., June 30, 1S30 ; cp. C. E. L., II, 84. ( p. Tennyson's scorn of an idle aristocracy. These old pheasant-lords, These pannage Drceders of a thousand years, Who had mildew 'd in their thousands, doing nothing. Aylmer^s Field. .\nd Kinpslcy, }V.u/, especially cap. xi. Sydney ^m\\h, Edin. Rev. ()cl. i8jj, pp. 4^-54- 85 13. Doubtless, as childish sports. " He . . . stood by the peasants at their work and listened eagerly to their words, which, rude as they might be, were the words of grown men, and awoke in him forecastings of a distant world. Old Stephen in particular, the family gardener, steward, ploughman, majordomo and factotum, he could have hearkened to for ever. Stephen had travelled much in his time and seen the manner of many men ; noting noteworthy things, which his shrewd mind wanted not skill to combine in its own simplicity into a consistent philosophy of life." L. IV. C, It'otton Keinfred, 26. 85 19. Much-enduring. TroXirrXaj, the constant Homeric epithet for Ulysses, (p. I-'.ssays, Dr. Erancia, IV, 341. 86 9-1 1. Wilhelm Tell . . . Any road. Denn jede Strasse fuhrt ans End' der Welt. iv. 3, 2619. The drama (1804) depicts the liberation of Switzerland and the career of the national hero. S7 10. Ormuz bazaars. A city built first on the mainland and then on an island, at the mouth of the Red Sea, famous as a dis- tributing centre of the Indian trade with Persia during the Middle Ages. 87 II. Lago Maggiore. The largest lake in Italy, partly in the Swiss canton, Ticino. S7 i.v confounding the confusion. See 21 25, n. 87 33. Prospero's Island. See Tempest, especially Act iv. sc. i. 88 10. ring of necessity. Ein kleiner Ring Hegranzt unser Leben, Und viele Gcschlechter Bk. II, Cap. III.] PEDAGOGY. 323 Reihen sich dauemd An ihres Daseins Unendliche Kette. Goethe, Grenzen der Menschheit. Cp. Carlyle, Meister^s Apprenticeship, bk. vi. p. 303. Lond., 1868. 89 2. root of bitterness. See Heb. xii. 15. 89 20. my kind Mother. " I esteem it a great blessing that I was born, that I am a denizen of God's Universe ; and surely the greatest of all earthly blessings that I was born of parents who were religions, who from the first studied to open my eyes to the Highest and train me up in the ways wherein I should go." Lett., 294. " In her secluded life, for like her husband she was visited by few except the needy and distressed, such feelings gathered strength ; were reduced to principles of action, and came at last to pervade her whole conduct, most of all her conduct to her sole surviving child. She never said to him : ' Be great, be learned, be rich ; ' but, ' Be good and holy, seek God and thou shalt find Him.' " L. W. C, IVotton Reinfred, 20. 90 1. Holy of Holies. See Exod. xxvi. 33, 34. 90 7. two-and-thirty quarters. The panel showing the number of times the family arms had been divided, which would indicate a long pedigree and many distinguished alliances* 90 11. indivisible case. See 83 4, n. 90 27. his own words. See 88 18; cp. 91 21. 91 5. Hindoo character. Carlyle has in mind the Hindoo mild- ness, patience and capacity for the contemplative life. 91 10. For the shallow-sighted. " The chief elements of my little destiny have all along lain deep below view or surmise, and never will or can be known to any son of Adam. . . . The con- fused world never understood nor will understand me and my poor affairs." Journal, Dec 29, 1848. C. L. L., I, i f. 91 21. the earliest tools. See 90 27 ; cp. 35 23. 91 24. Reading he 'cannot remember.' "To read and write she (his mother) had herself taught him ; the former talent he had acquired so early that it seemed less an art than a faculty, for he could not recollect his ever having wanted it or learned it." L. W. C, Wotton Reinfred, 21. "My mother (writes Carlyle, in a series of brief notes upon his early life) had taught me reading. I never remember when." C. E. L., I, 16. See also Rem., I, 45. 91 26. had it by nature. "Z>^^^^rrj'. — To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature." Much Ado, iii. 3. NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. III. 324 ,' ... Suppers on the Orchard-wall. See S3 10 ff. 92 «o. It struck me much. " Earth, sea and air are open to us here as well as anywhere. The water of Milk was flowing through its simple valley as early as the brook Siloa, and poor Repentance HUI is as old as Caucasus itself." Letter to J. Welsh, 1825. C. E. Z., 1,31a "This streamlet, nameless except to a few herdsmen, was meted out by the hand of the Omnipotent as well as the great ocean ; It is as ancient as the Flood, and was murmuring through its solitude when the ships of .>Eneas ascended the Tiber, or Siloa's Hrook was flowing fast by the Oracle of God." Z. W. C, Wotton Kntttred, 71 f. .^ .. i. . u . To chant thy birth, thou hast No meajier Poet than the whistling Blast, And Desolation is thy Patron -saint 1 She guards thee, ruthless Power ! who would not spare Those mighty forests, once the bison's screen, Where stalked the huge deer to his shaggy lair Through paths and alleys roofed with darkest green ; Thousands of years before the silent air Was pierced by whizzing shaft of hunter keen I Wordsworth, Sennets to the River Duddon, ii. 92 21. Kuhbach. See SI 31, n. and 92 20, n. 92 25. Joshua forded. See Joshua iii. 14-17. 92 «. Caesar swam. " Alexandriae circa oppugnationem pontis v\ hostium subita conpulsus in scapham, pluribus eodem |i: iiubus, cum desiliisset in mare, nando per ducentos passus cvasit ad proximam navem, elata laeva, ne libelli quos tenebat made- fierent. paludamentum mordicus trahens, ne spolio potiretur hostis." Suetonius, /V /'//. Oi^s., I, 64. 93 li. Hinterschlag. " Smite-behind," humorous for Annan. Cp. C. E. Z., I, 15. "He took me down to Annan Academy, on the Whitsunday morning, 1S06; I trotting at his side in the way alluded to in Teufelsdrockh. It was a bright morning, and to me full of moment ; of fluttering, 6oundless Hopes, saddened by part- ing with Mother, with Home; and which afterwards were cruelly disappointed." Rem., I, 46; cp. C. E. Z., T, 17. 93 33. His schoolfellows. " Probably it was in 1S08, April or May, after College time, that I first saw Irving: I had got over my worst miseries in that doleful and hateful ' Academy ' life of mine (which lasted three years in all); had begun, in spite of precept, to strike about me, to defend myself by hand and voice." Rem., II, i(>. " Toor Wotton had a sorry time of it, in this tumultuous, cozening, brawling, club-law commonwealth : he had not friends Bk. II, Cap. III.] PEDAGOGY. ,2d among them, or if any elder boy took his part, feeling some touch of pity for his innocence and worth, it was only for a moment, and his usual purgatory, perhaps aggravated by his late patron, returned upon him with but greater bitterness. They flouted him, they beat him, they jeered and tweaked and tortured him by a thousand cun- ning arts, to all which he could only answer with his tears ; so that his very heart was black within him." L. IV. C, Wotton Rein/red, 22 f. 94 15. Passivity. See 88 20, 91 5, n. 94 17. He wept often. " Young Carlyle was mocked for his moody ways, laughed at for his love of solitude, and called ' Tom the Tearful ' because of his habit of crying." Nichol, Thomas Carlyle, p. i8, E. M. L. Series. " For he was a quiet, pensive creature, that loved all things, his shelty, the milk-cow, nay the very cat, ungrate- ful termagant though she was ; and so shy and soft withal, that he generally passed for cowardly, and his tormentors had named him 'weeping Wotton,' and marked him down as a proper enough book- worm, but one without a particle of spirit. However, in this latter point they sometimes overshot themselves and the boldest and tallest of the house have quailed before the 'weeping Wotton,' when thor- oughly provoked, for his fury while it lasted was boundless, his little face gleamed like a thunderbolt, and no fear of earthly or unearthly thing could hold him from the heart of his enemy. But the sway of this fire-eyed genius was transient as the spark of the flint." L. IV. C, Wotton Reuifred, 23 f. " Mythically true is what ' Sartor' says of my schoolfellows, and not half the truth. Unspeak- able is the damage and defilement I got out of those coarse unguided tyrannous cubs, especially till I revolted against them and gave stroke for stroke, as my pious mother in her great love of peace and of my best interests, spiritually chiefly, had imprudently forbidden me to do." C. E. L., I, 17 f. See also ib., iz^i. 94 24. Rights of Man. An allusion to the famous 'declara- tion' promulgated by the French Constituent Assembly, 1789. 94 30. his Greek and Latin. " Sartor is not to be trusted in details. Greek consisted of the Alphabet mainly. Hebrew is a German entity. Nobody in that region except old Mr. Johnstone could have read a sentence of it to save his life. I did get to read Latin and French with fluency — Latin quantity was left a frightful chaos, and I had to learn it afterwards. Some geometry, algebra, arithmetic thoroughly well, vague outlines of geography, I did learn." C. E. L., I, 17. -/."• 1 -. NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. III. Gerund-grinder. Carlylese for dry pedantic grammarian. He U fond of this figure. From Tristram Shandy, vol. V, cap. xxxii. y> 19. manufactured at NUrnberg. " With no more life than the FrecthinLcr.s' niudcl in Mariinus ScrihUrus, the Nuremberg man. who operated by a combination of pipes and levers, and though he rould breathe and digest perfectly, and even reason as well as most country parsons, was made of wood and leather." Introduc- tions to Cnman Komancc, Kichter (1827); Essays, I, 448, Appen- dix. •• Man himself is but a more cunning chemico-mechanical com- bination, such as in- the progress of discovery we may hope to see manufactured at Soho." L. IV. C, IVotton Rein/red, 145- See aJso Estays, Signs of the Times, II, 144- ')' :«. the Hodman. "Till one knows that \vq. ■ canjwt be a Maxon. why should he publicly hire himself as a Hodman .?" Let- ter to Cloethe, .\ug. 31, 1830; G.-Corr., 209. "They are the hodmen of the intellectual edifice, who have got upon the wall and will in>ist on building as if they were masons." C.-Jonr., 1829. / ., II. So. This phrase is Fichtean ; see Essays, I, 63. V<> ly. pale kingdoms. Ditis profundi pallida regna. Lucret. i. 45^- 97 3. ye loved ones. "There is nothing wanting but deepest sleep, where there were no dreams to trouble me. Ere long I shall find it in my mother's bosom." L. \V. C, \Votto7i Kcinjred, 11. 97 c. monster-bearing desert. Cp. 104 13. 97 in. Henry the Fowler. Henry I., Emperor of Germany, 876-936. 98 11. so chaotic. Carlyle's device to avoid being tied down to any regular plan. Cp. 29 25. 98 15. Sibylline. " It was usual in the Sibyl to write her prophecies on leaves, which she placed at the entrance of her cave, and it required particular care in such as consulted her to take up these leaves before they were dispersed by the wind, as their mean- ing then became incomprehensible." Lefnpriere. See Alh. iii. 445 ff. "Thus all things in her were like Sibyl's leaves : her opinions, purposes, moods, at the breath of every accident, were in t<)niinual llux and reflu.v." L. IV. C, IVoiton Rein/red, 162. 98 16. Programs. See 14 33, n. 98 a«. dead vocables. See 95 15. 99 10. 80 questionable. Thou rom'st in siuh a questionable shape. Hamlet, i. 4. Bk. II, Cap. III.] PEDAGOGY. 227 99 21. University. Edinburgh. This passage represents Car- lyle's feelings at the time. See C. E. L., I, 25 f. ; cp. Tennyson's sonnet on Cambridge. He afterwards showed more affection to his ahna mater. Among the most significant and noble words he ever penned are passages in his address to the Edinburgh students on being made Lord Rector in 1866, and the Deed of Craigenputtoch to the University. See /\ef?i., I, Appen. 99 33. When the blind. See Matt. xv. 14. 100 6. as they listed. The same complaint occurs in IVotton Reinfred. " It was a university in which the great principle of spiritual liberty was admitted in its broadest sense, and nature was left not only without misguidance, but without any guidance at all." L. IV. C, 28 ; cp. 104 33. 100 ]9. Gullible, however, Carlyle made this discovery early. In a letter to Mitchell, March 31, 1817, he criticises the new doc- trine of phrenology, and concludes, " Si populus vult decipi, deci- piatur," which is probably taken from J. Beattie, Essay on Truth, p. 381. Lond., 1820. E. Lett., 46 ; cp. 102 3. 100 26. Puffery. See 11 1, n. 101 14. Game-Preserver. See 84 15, n. 101 33. imagination of meat. Kath. Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave, [Beats him J\ That feed'st me with the very name of meat. Ta;ni?ig of the Shrew, iv. 3. 102 21. Progress of the Species. All watchwords of the opti- mist philosophy of the day. 102 25. crepiren. Used only of animals ; " like the beasts that perish." 103 8-9. Salamanca University, Famous as a school of theology in the Middle Ages and till the middle of the 17th century. In the 1 6th century it had from 6000 to 8000 students ; now, there are not more than 400, 103 9. Sybaris city. One of the earliest Grecian colonies in Italy on the Tarentine gulf, famous for the luxury of its inhabitants. See Herod, vi. 127, note on Smindyrides; (Rawlinson.) 103 10. Castle of Indolence. Didactic poem in Spenserian stanza, by James Thomson ; published 1748. 103 17. The hungry young. The liungry sheep look up and are not fed But swoln with wind, and the rank mist they draw Rot inwardly. , y „ .^, a ■' Lye Idas, 125 tt. NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. lit. •• .should a wUe mail utter vain knowledge, and fill his belly with the east wind?" Job xv. 2. 103 96. renommiren. German student slang. Zacharia wrote a p<>cni. n^r A\-:.mmn(. pulilished in 1741. The hero is Raufbold, a bull) 103 5JS. fishing-up more books. "He was left to choose his own society and form his own habits, and had unlimited com- mand of reading. What a wild world rose before him, as he read, and fell, and saw, with as yet unworn avidity ! " Z. W. C, IVotton A'nm/reJ, 2S. 103 3-1. as man. Cp. 67 M, n. " A few words from Herr Pro- fea»or Teufelsdrockh, if they help to set this preliminary matter in a clearer \\g\\\, may be worth translating here. I,et us first remark with him, however, ' how wonderful in all cases, great or little, is the importance of man to man.'" Essays, Goethe's Works, III, 159. 104 16. Doubt. Carlyle was intended for the ministry, and actually began to study theology. He gave up the project, how- ever, because he could not believe as was required. See Rem., I, 47; II, 39, 90. C /'.". L., I, 54, 67. " Who knows not the agonies of doubt .* What heart not of stone can endure to abide with them .'' Wotton's was a heart of flesh, and of the softest ; it was torn and bleeding, but he could not pause ; for a voice from the depths of his nature called to him, as he loved truth, to persevere. He studied the sceptical writers of his own country, above all, the modern literature of France. Here at length a light rose upon him, not the pure sunlight of former days, but a red fierce glare, as by degrees his doubt settled in utter negation." Z. /r. C, IVotton Reinfred, 32. 104 III. with new healing. Malachi iv. 2, adapted. 10.> H. Profession of Law. An autobiographic fact. Carlyle attended Hume's lectures on law in 1819. See E.Lett., 119, 121, «2J. 'jS. '•44- C.E.L., I. 56, 85. "By his counsel W^otton had meditated various professions ; that of law he had even for a time attempted." Z. IV. C., IVottoti Rein/red, 42. 10.> sw. Towgood. The name is not a coinage : an essay on the C.reat kel)elliun was published by the Rev. M. Towgood, 1748. It is Iwrne also by a well-known London paper-maker. This character is supposed to be Charles IJuller, to whom Carlyle was private tutor. He is memorable to Canadians for drawing up the famous Durham report, which did so much to give us representative govern- ment. See "Carlyle and the Rose-goddess," by George Strachey. XtHdtenth Cn,tu,v Sopf. 1.S92. Carlyle was fond of him. Bk II, Cap. IV.] GETTING UNDER WAY. 329 " Friends of mine, in a fine frank way, beyond what I could be thought to merit, he, Arthur and all the Family, till death parted us." Rem., II, 105. His fondness for boxing is mentioned both by Irving and Carlyle. C. E. L., I, 145, and Revi., II, 103. 105 24. the interior parts. A common phrase in the Eighteenth Century, e.g., "Travels through the interior parts of America, United States and Canada, in a series of letters by an Ofiicer." 1791. 105 25. Zahdarm. German translation of "Toughgut." 105 32. silent fury. Byron used the phrase of himself. See Moore's Life, sub ann. 1793. 106 17. Attorney Logic. See 61 20, n. 106 26. thistles . . . figs. See Matt. vii. 16. 106 27. Frisch zu, Bruder. Be up and doing. Brother ! 107 10. Soul . . . Stomach. Cp. 172 29. " Has not the turtle- eating man an eternal sunshine of the breast .? Does not his Soul — which, as in some Slavonic dialects, means his Stomach, — sit forever at its ease, enwrapped in warm condiments, amid spicy odours." Essays, Schiller, II, 269. 107 20. interior parts. See 105 24, n. 108 4. the very Ditcher. Illustrating the value of trifles, and apparently based on Swift's phrase. " And he gave it as his opinion, that whoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together." Gtilliver^s Travels, II, ch. vi. Voyage to Brobdignag. ^ 108 20. The Scottish Brassmith's Idea. Watts' invention of the steam-engine. "A poor, quite mechanical Magician speaks, and fire-winged ships cross the Ocean at his bidding." Essays, Death of Goethe, III, 148 ; cp. id.. Signs of the Times, II, 139. 108 23. Enchanter's Familiar. Possible allusion to Goethe's poem, Der Zauberlehrling, in which the novice raises a spirit to fetch and carry ; and cannot lay him. 108 30. Prince of Darkness. See 10 31, n. 109 11. what I Have. See Luke xii. 15. 109 32. many so spend. At thirty man suspects himself a fool ; Knows it at forty and reforms his plan : At fifty chides his infamous delay, Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve ; 55^ AZOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. IV. In all the magnanimity of thought Resolves : and re-resolves ; then dies the same. \vvSG, Night Thoughts, Night i. 417-22. li». •,'.. I broke it. See 111 ic, n. 110 an, the words of Ancient Pistol. Fill. 1 will not lend thee a penny. /'«/. Why then the world's my oyster, Which I with sword will open. Merry Wives, ii. 2. 111 r.. breaks-off his neck-halter. See 110 27. ''Am I like a sorry hack content to feed on heather while rich clover seems to lie around it at a little distance, Ifecatise in struggling to break the lelher it has almost hanged itself t " C-Jour., Hoddam Hill, sub ann., Sept. 2\, 1S25. Cp. French proverb, " Rien ne vaut poulain, s'il ne rompt son lien." Ill I-. having thrown-up. Carlyle's actual situation in 1820. " l»i\v I fear mu.st be renounced ; it is a shapeless mass of absurdity and chicane . . . Teaching a school is but another word for sure and not very slow destruction ; and as to compiling the wretched lives of Montesquieu, Montagu, Montaigne, etc., for Dr. Brewster — the remuneration will hardly sustain life. What then is to be done ? " E. Lett., 135. See entire letter. Cp. C. E. L.. I, 64, 85. The hero of Wotton Rfinfttd is in similar perplexity ; see cap. i. Ill •->•-» Son of Time, (ioethean phrase. Cp. 117 26. Drum danket Gott, ihr Sbhne der Zeit, Dass er die Pole fiir ewig entzweit. Gott, Geiniith u. JVeli. 111 y:.. No Object. Bin ich der Fliichtling nicht, der Unbehaus'te, Der Unmensch ohne Zweck und Ruh'. Faiist, sc. xiii. 1. 3347 f. 112 I. Examen Rigorosum. " Having passed his third and last trial, the examen rigorosutn, and this with no common applause, he (Hoffmann) was soon after appointed Assessor of the Court at Tosen, in South Prussia." German Romance ; Introduction, Essays, I, 432 f., Append. ; cp. Essays, Goethe'' s Works, III, 190 ; C. -Trans., II. 127 112 2. Auscultator. .About equivalent to " lawyer's assistant." •*Ini795, he pa-'^sed his first professional trial and was admitted Auxcultator of the Court of Kiinigsberg." Essays, I, 432. Bk. II, Cap. I V.J GETTING UNDER WAY. , ^^j 112 10. Small speculation. Thou hast no speculation in those eyes, Which thou dost glare with. Macbeth, iii. 4. 112 22. cygnet or gosling. The idea is proverbial and traceable to the Anatomy of Melancholy, Part i, Sect. 2, Memb. 3, Subsect. 14. " All our geese are swans." 113 1. Assessorship. Query, professorship.? See 114 i, n. As- sessor corresponds to a lawyer not yet called to the bar. 113 17. Horn of Plenty. See Ovid, Fast, v. 115-124 for the legend. 113 18. the prompt nature. See 110 6. 113 20. private Tuition. Carlyle had private pupils in Edin- burgh in 1819; (C E. L., I, 61), and from 1822 to 1824 he was family tutor to the young Bullers. See ib., 145-232. 113 24. faculty of Translation. Carlyle translated among other things, Legendre, 1822 ; Wilhelni Meister, 1823 ; selections from Tieck, Musaeus, Fouque and Richter, 1S27. 113 28. there is always. This proverb occurs in a chap-book, A Collection of Scotch Proverbs, by Allan Ramsay (Paisley, N. D.), p. 19, as "There is aye life for a living man."* In some collections it reads " in a living man." 114 1. throw light. Carlyle was an unsuccessful applicant for professorships at St. Andrews and London. While Sartor was being published in Eraser, he also asked Jeffrey to help him to the chair of Astronomy at Edinburgh. This Jeffrey refused to do in a letter which Carlyle long resented. See Rem., II, 265-268, and Froude's remarks, C. E. L., II, xvii. He may refer to some such letter in former applications. 114 12. Herr Teufelsdrockh. Her Ladyship requests the pleasure of Herr Teufelsdrockh's presence at Aesthetic Tea, on Thursday. " And some picture of him was required for all heads that would not sit blank and mute in the topic of every coffee-house and aesthetic tea.^^ Essays, Life and Writings of Werner, I, 93. 114 15. solid pudding. Poetic Justice, with her lifted scale, Where in nice balance, truth with gold she weighs, And solid pudding against empty praise. Pope, TJte Dunciad, i. 52-4. 115 3. The Zahdarms. "The story of the book," said Mrs. Strachey to her son, " is plain as a pike-staff. Teufelsdrockh is , , , \0 TES. [Bk. II, Cap. IV. .»3- Thoma« himself. The Zahdarms are your uncle and aunt Buller. 4l is young Charles Buller." " Carlyle and the ' Rose-god- u.s, Xinfteenth Century, Sept., 1892. The Bullers were wealthy jicoplf, the first Carlyle had come in contact with. lis 6. Gnadigen Frau. Literally "gracious Lady," the German title for a lad) "f rank. 11.^30. Sphinx riddle. See 47 20, n. IL^ 32. blackness of darkness. See Jude, 13. 116 10. sadder and wiser. A sadder and a wiser man. He rose the morrow mom. A ncient Mariner. 116 24. Life everywhere. Cp. 47 9, n. "There is an age when to every man life appears the simplest matter. How very manage- able ! Kvery why has its wherefore ; this leads to that, and the whole problem of existence is easy and certain as a question in the Rule of Three : Multif'ly the second and third terms together, and dn-iJe the product by the first, and the .quotient will be the ans7uer. Trust me, friend, before you come to my time of day, you will find there w a devilish fraction always over, do what you will ; and if you try to reduce it, it goes into a repeating decimal and leads you the Lord knows whither." L. W. C, IVotton Retnfred, 88 f. 117 5. Saturn. Kmbraced by Saturn, Rhea gave to light A glorious race But them, as issuing from the sacred womb They touched the mother's knees, did Saturn huge Devour. Hbsiod, Theog., 541-551 ; (Valpy.) 117 9. Holy Alliance. The compact of Russia, Austria and Prussia to maintain the existing dynasties made at Paris on Sept. 26, 1S15. 117 2«. Son of Time. See 111 22, n. 117 33. to work. See above, 1. 15. lib 3. Hudibras's sword. The tre-ichant blade, Toledo trusty, For want of fighting was growTi rusty, And ate into itself for lack Of somebody to hew and hack. Hudibras, Part i, Canto i, 1. 359. Bk. II, Cap. IV.] GETTING UNDER WAY. ^^^ 118 7. "excellent Passivity." See 91 5, n. 118 16. stillness of manner. Cp. 12 30 and 28 7-i5. 118 24. ironic tone. " No swagger in the latter (Carlyle him- .self); but a want of it which was almost still worse. Not sanguine and diffusive, he ; but biliary and intense, — ' far too sarcastic for a young man,' said several in the years now coming." AVw., II, 24. 118 33. how many individuals. "In Edinburgh, 'from my fellow-creatures,' he says, ' little or nothing but vinegar was my reception when we happened to meet or pass near each other — my own blame mainly, so proud, shy, poor, at once so insignificant-look- ing and so grim and sorrowful. That in ' Sartor ' of the worm trod- den on and proving a torpedo is not wholly a fable, but did actually befall once or twice, as I, still with a kind of small not ungenial malice, can remember.'" C. E. L., 1, 57. " By such half displays of his inward nature, poor Wotton's popularity was seldom in- creased. Bernard was confessedly a man of parts, by whom it might seem less disgraceful to be tutored ; but who was this Wotton, this sharp, scornful stripling, whom no one meddled with unpun- ished ? " Z. W. C, Wotton Rein/red, 40 f.; cp. Re7?i., II, 24, top. 120 I. Hie Jacet. The ' alleged defect ' is probably the unclas- sical 'nunc a labore ' version of Rev. xiv. 13. 120 23. baking bricks. See Exodus v. 6-19. 121 7. Quitting the common Fleet. " Mankind sail their Life- voyage in huge fleets, following some single whale-fishing or herring- fishing Commodore : 'the log-book of each differs not, in essential import, from that of any other : nay, the most have no legible log- book (reflection, observation not being among their talents); keep no reckoning, only keep in sight of the flagship, — and fish." Essays, BoszuelTs Johnson,' III, 94 f. ; cp. Letter to J. Carlyle, Aug. 6, 1830 ; C. E. L., II, 117. 121 8. herring-busses. " A small sea-vessel, used by us and the Dutch in the herring-fishery, commonly from 50 to 60 tons burden and sometimes more. A buss has two small sheds or cabins, one at the prow and the other at the stern ; that at the prow serves as a kitchen." McCulloch, Dictionary of Commerce ajtd Commercial Navigatiofi. This craft figures in the discussions of the fishing bounties at the beginning of this century. 121 18. Northwest Passage. In 18 18 and again in 1827, Capt. John Ross started from England to find the Northwest Passage. His portrait is one of the earliest and most amusing of the Eraser series. The idea is Shandean. " I am convinced, Yorick," con- .. NOTES. [Bk. II. Cap. IV. finucfl my father, half reading and half discoursing, " that there is a northwest passage to the intellectual world; and that the soul of man has shorter ways of going to work, in furnishing itself with knowledge and instruction, than we generally take with it." Tris- tram Shiim/v, l)k. V. cap. xlii. •• Stealing, we say, is properly the North West I'assage to Enjoyment : while common Navigators sail painfully along torrid shores, laboriously doul)ling this or the other Cape of Hope, your adroit Thief- Parry, drawn on smooth dog- pledges, is alriady there and hack again." Essays, Count Cagliostro, 'I'. 345. — Spice-country. Southern Arabia is famous for its spices. (l\t. Paradise Lost, iv. 159-165. — Nowhere. Utopia. See 5 13. n. 121 SI. Calypso-Island. Ulysses sole of all the victor train, An exile from Iiis dear paternal coast, Deplored his absent queen and empire lost ; Calypso in her caves constrained his stay With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay. Pope, Odyssey, i. 18-22. 121 30. a Person. See 118 20. 121 33. Like and Unlike. The same idea is found in Goethe and Tennyson, but both ai;e not equally serious. Compare Warum tanzcn JUibchcn mit Madchen so gem? Ungleich dum Cleichen bleibet nichtfem. Goit, Geinilth u. IVelt. with the famous close of T/ic I rttucss, vu. His dearest bond is this Not like in like, but like in difference, etc. 122 13-1.^. Paradise . . . Eve . . . Tree of Knowledge. See (Jen. ii. S. 25. 122 18. Cherubim. See den. iii. 24. 122 IK. sacred air-towers. Cj). Tennyson, Timbuctoo. .Soon yon brilliant towers Sliall darken with the waving of her wand ; Darken and shrink and shrivel into huts, Hlack SLt amid a waste of dreary sand, I^iw-built. mud-waU'd. barbaiian settlement. How chang'd from that fair city \ 122 25. Forlorn. In German the adjective may be used as a noun much more freely than in English. Carlyle introduces such Bk. II, Cap. v.] ROMANCE. ,^ - phrases often, in order to give a German air to his book. Cp. 5 2, n., 123 5, 125 24, 128 8, end, etc. 122 28. reverberating furnace. One in which the flame is driven over the substance to be smelted. The fire is covered in and intensely hot. The walls are not especially ' thin.' Cp. 123 29. 122 34. Esthetic Tea. See 114 I2, n. 123 3. Jacob's ladder. See Gen. xxviii. 12. 123 25. his own figurative style. Self-conscious. Cp. 5 30, n. 123 29. reverberating furnace. See 122 28, n. 123 34. the outskirts of Esthetic Tea. See 114 12, n. 124 11. thin walls. See 122 as, n. 124 15. an extinct volcano. See 28 11. 124 22. not wisely. See Othello, v. 2, 343. 124 23. Congreve. A large rocket used as a weapon, named from the inventor. Cp. 124 3. 124 26. First Love. See Goethe, Wahrheit u. Dichtung, bk. iii. s. 200-213, ^'^^ Essays, Goethe, I, 227. 124 31. St. Martin's Summer. The warm season in the autumn, known in America as Indian Summer. St. Martin's day is Nov. ir. The rose, the myrtle and the apple were sacred to Venus. 125 9. Petrarchan and Werterean. Alluding to Petrarch's son- net series in praise of Laura, and Goethe's novel of unhappy love, Die Leiden des Jjingen IVerther (1774). 125 12. Blumine. From Richter; see Essays, I, 450. 125 17. Preestablished Harmony. " The designation of Leibnitz for his theory of the Divinely-established relation between body and mind — the movements of monads and the succession of ideas, as it were a constant agreement between two clocks (Syst. Nouv., p. 14 ; Erdmann, pp. 127 to 133 j-^^. ; Thcodicee ; La Monadologie')^ Flem- ing, Vocabulary of Philosophy. 125 34. Esthetic Tea. See 114 12, n. 126 2. Gnadige Frau. See 115 6, n. 126 7. Waldschloss. Castle in the Wood. Cp. L. IV. C, Wotton jReinfred, House in the Wold, cap. iv. and passim. 126 8. absolved. The German verb 'absolviren' means 'to finish one's studies.' 126 11. Noble Mansion! "A circular valley of some furlongs in diameter lay round them, like a huge amphitheatre, broken only in its contour by the entrance of two oblique chasms like the one they had left; on its level bottom of the purest green stood a large stately mansion, which seemed to be of granite, for in the sunshine it glittered from amid its high clusters of foliage like a palace of , NOTES. [Bk. 11, Cap. V. 1 1 i.,,r.Hi... ..vcrlaiil with precious metal. Behind it, and on both nicies AX a tluitance. the hills sloped up in a gentle wavy curvature ; the •wjuti was of the greenest, embossed here and there with low Lir'. ■ frets of crag, or spotted by some spreading solitary tree ^^, ., ,w. /.//'. r., Wotton Kcittfred, 76 f 126 I. El Dorado. • The Gilded One.' The name for a mythi- cal "kingdom in .^ouih .\merica, of great wealth. The legend WAS justified by the riches of Mexico and Peru. 12*. -.H). Ammon's Temple. The seat of a famous oracle, with a m.ndcrful spring (Ovid, Met., 15, v. 309 ; Lucret., 6, v. 847)- See HercKl. ji. 42, 54 ; Diod. iii. 72 ; Landor, Imag. Conversations, Alex- ander and the Priest of Ilammou. I can find no mention of the ^ Ixrinp dclivLTt'd in writing. ._■ jti. the last Relatio ex Actis. Official report. "'This must do,' writes he in hi.s Diary, ' and it will do ; for now I shall never more have a Relatio ex Actis to write while I live, and so the Fountain of all Evil is dried up.' " E. J. W. Hoffman, quoted by ('arlyle ; Essays, I, 436. 127 9. How came it. " His spirit was roused from its deepest recesses, a thousand dim images and vague feelings of gladness and pain were cla-shing in tumultuous vortices within him ; he felt as if he stood on the eve of some momentous incident — as if this hour were to decide the welfare or woe of long future years." L. IV. C, IVfitton Ktittfred, 45. 127 23. Blumine's was a name. "Jane Montagu was a name well known tn him; far and wide its fair owner was celebrated for her graces and gifts; herself also he had seen and noted ; her slim, daintiest form, her soft sylph-like movement, her black tresses shad- ing a face so gentle yet so ardent ; but all this he had noted only as a beautiful vision which he himself had scarcely right to look at, for her sphere was far from his ; as yet he had never heard her voice or hoped that he should ever speak with her." L. W. C, l-Voiton Rein- fred, 4.4 f. 128 ai*. Genius. This is not the Socratic Salfiwv, for that never prompted to action (see Cic, De Div., i. c. 54); but rather the Neo- I'latonic genius, which is born with every man, determines his character and tries to influence him for good. See Ant. and Cleop., ii. 3. 20; Macb.. iii. i, 56, etc.; Goethe, Wanderers Sturmlied ; riut. and Apul.. de Genio Socratis. 128 30. Show thyself. Apparently an echo of Awake, arise or be for ever fallen." Par, Lost, i. 330. Bk. II. Cap. v.] ROMANCE. 337 129 15. Philistine. "A vain sophistical young man was afflict- ing the party with much slender and, indeed, base speculation on the human mind ; this he resumed after the pause and bustle of the new arrival. Wotton, by one or two Socratic questions in his happiest style, contrived to silence him for the night. The dis- comfiture of this logical marauder was felt and even hailed as a benefit by every one ; but sweeter than all applauses was the glad smile, threatening every moment to become a laugh, and the kind, thankful look with which Jane Montagu repaid the victor. He ventured to speak to her : she answered him with attention, nay, it seemed as if there were a tremor in her voice ; and perhaps she thanked the dusk that it half hid her." L. W. C, Wotton Rein/red, 46. 129 30. The conversation. " The conversation took a higher tone, one fine thought called forth another ; each, the speakers and the hearers alike, felt happy and well at ease." L. IV. C, IVotton Rein/red, 46 f. " In such hours, when all is invitation to peace and gladness, the soul expands with full freedom, man feels himself brought nearer to man, and the narrowest hypochondriac is charmed from his selfish seclusion and surprised by the pleasure of unwonted sympathy with nature and his brethren. Gaily in light graceful abandonment and touches of careless felicity, the friendly talk played round the table ; each said what he liked without fear that others might dislike it, for the burden was rolled from every heart ; the barriers of ceremony, which are indeed the laws of polite living, melted into vapour, and the poor claims of me and thee, no longer parted and enclosed by rigid lines, flowed softly into each other ; and life lay like some fair unappropriated champaign, variegated indeed by many tints, but all these mingling by gentle undulations, by imperceptible shadings, and all combining into one harmonious whole. Such virtue has a kind environment of circumstances over cultivated hearts. And yet as the light grew yellower and purer on the mountain tops, and the shadows of these stately scattered trees fell longer over the valley, some faint tone of sadness may have breathed through the heart, and in whispers more or less audible reminded every one by natural similitude, that as this bright day was coming towards its close, so also must the day of man's existence decline into dusk and darkness, and the night come, wherein all image of its joy and woe would pass away and be for- gotten." lb., p. 124 f. 130 18. To our Friend. "To Wotton the hours seemed moments ; he had never been as now ; the words from those sweet- 25^ AZOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. V. est lips came over him like dew on thirsty grass ; his whole soul was as if lapped in richest melodies, and all better feelings within him seemed to whisper, ' It is good for us to be here.' At parting, the fair one's hand was in his : in the balmy twilight, with the kind stars above them, he spoke something of meeting again, which was not contradicted ; he pressed gently those small soft fingers, and it seemed as if they were not hastily or angrily withdrawn." Z. IV. C, H'ottofi Kei ft/red, 47. 130 20. dew on thirsty grass. Probably a recollection of Ilosea vi. 1-4 in the form of the Scotch "paraphrase," with which Carlyle as a born Presbyterian would be familiar. As dew upon the tender herb, Diffusing fragrance round ; As show'rs that usher in the spring. And cheer the thirsty ground. Paraphrase, xxx. 130 21. Tt is good. See Matt. xvii. 4. 131 6. Archimedes-lever. The authority for this saying is Sim- plicius in P/iys., 424 a, edition of Brandis. It i.<= usually but incor- rectly quoted A6s TroO arw koI tt}v yrjv KLvrjauj. For other readings see Hiichmann, Gcftilj^. Wortc, 360, 17 ed. 131 14. Pyrrhus conquering. Cp. 81 14, n. "To be sure," said Cineas ..." but when we have conquered all, what are we to do then?" "Why then, my friend," said Pyrrhus laughing, "we will take our ease, and drink and be merry." Langhorne's P/utarch ; cp. De Quincey, Historical Essays, Secret Societies^ II, 291, f. 131 24. Disbelieving all things. " Doubting and disbelieving all things, the poor youth had never learned to believe in himself. .... Thus in timid pride he withdrew within his own fastnesses, where, baited l)y a thousand dark spectres, he saw himself as if con- strained to renounce in unspeakable sadness the fairest hopes of existence. And now how sweet, how ravishing the contradiction ! * She has looked on thee ! ' cried he ; 'she, the fairest, noblest ; she does not despise thee ; her dark eyes smiled on thee ; her hand was in thine ; some figure of thee was in her soul ! ' Storms of trans- port rushed through his heart as he recalled the scene, and sweetest intimations that he also was a man, that for him also unutterable joys had been provided.'* L. JV. C, IVotton Keinfred, 48. 13131. Heaven's Messenger. — Aurora. — Morning-Star. See Introd . x.\\-Nx.\v. Bk. II, Cap. V.J ROMANCE. 33^ 132 12. Was she not to him. "To him her presence brought with it airs from heaven. A balmy rest encircled his spirit while near her ; pale doubt fled away to the distance, and life bloomed up with happiness and hope. The young man seemed to awake as from a haggard dream ; he had been in the garden of Eden, then, and his eyes could not discern it ! But now the black walls of his prison melted away, and the captive was alive and free in the sunny spring ! If he loved the benignant disenchantress .'' His whole heart and soul and life were hers ; yet he had never thought of love : for his whole existence was but a feeling which he had not yet shaped into a thought." L. IV. C, IVotton Reinfred, 49 f. 132 13. airs from Heaven. Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell. Hcnnlet, i. 4. 132 15. Memnon's Statue. "Non absimilis illi narraturin Thsbis delubro Serapls, ut putant, Memnonis statuae dicatus quem coti- diano solis ortu contactum radiis crepare tradunt." Pliny, Nat. Hist, xxxvi. 7. " Ceterum Germanicus aliis quoque miraculis intendit animum, quorum praecipua fuere Memnonis saxea efiigies ubi radiis solis icta est vocalem sonui.i reddens," — Tac, Ann., ii. 61. 132 29. 'Children of Time.' See 111 22, n. 132 34. Duenna Cousin. See Introd. xxx, for discussion. "Jane Montagu had an ancient maiden aunt who was her hostess and protectress, to whom she owed all and looked for all. . . . What passed between the good maiden and her aunt we know not ; she had high hopes from her niece, and in her meagre, hunger-bitten philosophy, Wotton's visits had from the first been but faintly approved of." L. W. C, Wotton Reinfred, 50 ; cp. Rem., II, 57-59. 133 4. What figure. " Yes, Jeannie, though I have brought you into rough, rugged conditions, I feel that I have saved you : as Gigmaness you could not have lived." Letter to his "Wife, Aug. 1831. C. E. L., II, 189. 133 8. absolved Auscultator. See 126 8, n. and 112 2, n. 133 9. religion of young hearts. See above, 1. i. Will the love that you're so rich in Make a fire in the kitchen ? Or the little god of Love turn the spit, spit, spit ? Old Song. NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. VI. \\\ '>:. Montgolfier. The first form of the balloon invented by Ihc brothers Montgolfier (1784). It was inflated by means of hot air. and the fire used was often the cause of accidents. 134 4. One morning. "One morning he found his fair Jane lonstrained aiul >ad ; she was silent, absent; she seemed to have iK-cn weeping. The aunt left the room. He pressed for explana- tior». first in kind solicitude, then with increasing apprehension ; but none was to U- had, save only broken hints that she was grieved for hervelf, for him. that she had much to suffer, that he must cease to vb.it her. It was in vain that the thunderstruck Wotton demanded, •Why.' Why?' 'One whom she entirely depended on had so ordered it, and for herself, she had nothing to do but to obey.' She resisted all entreaties ; she denied all explanation ; her words were firm and cold ; only by a thrill of anguish that once or twice quivered over her face could a calmer man have divined that she was suffering within. Wotton's pride was stung ; he rose and held out his hand : ' Farewell, then, madam ! ' said he, in a low steady voice; ' I will not — ' She put her hand in his; she looked in his face, tears started to her eyes." Z. W. C, Wotton Rehifred, 50 f. ••Vet still her right hand was in his and they again stood near in space, though in relation so widely divided ! A tear was gathering in the bright eyes of Jane, which she fixed on the ground, and through Wotton's heart were quivering wild tones of remembrance and hope, wailing as of infinite grief, and touches of rapture rising almost to pain. He gazed silently on that loved form ; there was no motion in her hand, but she timidly raised her face, where over soft, (|uick i)hjshes tears were stealing, and next moment, neither knew how it was, but his arms were round her, and her bosom was on his, and in the first pure heavenly kiss of love two souls were melted into one." Ih., p. iSi. " The pale angelic face, the lips of which he timidly pressed, but did not kiss, till all-powerful Love bound its girdles round them, and drew the two closer and closer together, and their two souls, like two tears, melted into one." Quintus Fixlein, C.-Trans., II, 149. 134 yo. immortal by a kiss. W.1S this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? — Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Marlowe, Doctor Faustus, sc. xiii. 135 T a shivered Universe. See 134 23. Bk. II, Cap. VI.] SORROWS OF TEUFELSDROCKlJ. 341 135 9, Satanic. The name given by Southey to the school of Byron. See his Vision of Judgment, Preface, 1822. 135 16. Pilgerstab. This is a regular literary " property " and figures constantly in German poems and tales. 135 30. genii enfranchised. See Arabian Nights, The Story of the Fisherman ; Lane, I, 78 ff. Lond., 1841. 135 34. as we remarked. See 124 31. 136 4. One highest hope. " ' And she — O fair and golden as the dawn she rose upon my soul. Night with its ghastly fantasms fled away ; and beautiful and solemn in earnest shade and gay sun- shine lay our life before me. And then, and then ! O God, a gleam of hell passed over the face of my angel, and the pageant was rolled together like a scroll, and thickest darkness fell over me, and I heard the laughter of a demon ! But what of it .^ ' cried he, sud- denly checking himself. ' It was a vision, a brief calenture, a thing that belonged not to this earth.' " Z. W. C, Wotton Rein/red, 8 f. 136 9. Calenture. " A feverish disorder incident to sailors in hot climates ; the principal symptom of which is, their imagining the sea to be green fields ; hence, attempting to walk abroad in these imaginary places of delight they are frequently lost." Howard's New Royal Cyclopaedia. — And away we sail'd and we past Over that undersea isle, where the water is clearer than air : Down we look'd : what a garden ! O bliss, what a Paradise there ! Towers of a happier time, low down in a rainbow deep Silent palaces, quiet fields of eternal sleep ! And three of the gentlest and best of my people, whate'er I could say, Plunged headlong down in the sea, and the Paradise trembled away. Tennyson, Voyage of Mae/dune. 137 3. like unto a wheel. Ps. Ixxxiii. 13, adapted; cp. 7ris- trajH Shandy, vol. vii. cap. xiii. for this thought expanded. 138 3. Mountains were not new. " Mountains were not new to either of them ; but rarely are mountains seen in such combined majesty and grace as here. The rocks are of that sort called primi- tive by the mineralogist, which always arrange themselves in masses of a rugged and gigantic character ; but their ruggedness is softened by a singular elegance of form ; in a climate favourable to vegetation, the gray shapeless cliff itself covered with lichens rises through a garment of foliage or verdure, and white bright tufted cottages are clustered round the base of the everlasting granite. In fine vicissitude, beauty alternates with grandeur. You ride through stony hollows, along straight passes traversed by torrents, and over- XOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. VI. .,.ilLs of rock; now winding amid broken shaggy !.uge fragments; now suddenly emerging into some . -.. where the streamlet collects into a lake, and man .. lair dwelling, and it seems as if peace had established the stony bosom of strength." L. II'. C, Wotton Reinfred, 67 f. For similar situation of hero among mountains, cp. Novalis, •• ' ' rv« OfUrMugen, Th. ii., and Goethe, Wilhclm Meisters :hre, ii. 138 30. Whoso can look. " ' After all,' said he, ' what have I to |o»e> My integrity is mine and nothing more. Who fears not death, him no shadow can make tremble ' ; and reciting this latter »«ntcnce with a strong low tone in the original words of Euripides, I, he rode along as if composing his soul by this antique • . forced aiul painful rest." Z. W. C, Wotton Reinfred, 166 ; cp. Tittayt, Jran Paul Friedricli Richter, II, 187. " Sir, you're not a Highlander <.r you would know the (Gaelic proverb, 'The heart of one who can look death in the face will not start at a shadow.' " KorlKTJi Mitchell, h'tniittiscfNus of the Great Mutiny, p. 89. Lond., iS'M I.JS aa- From such meditations. " In a short time his attention wan called outwards from these meditations, for the valley he had xscending closed in abruptly on a broad, rugged mountain, i>"'i: like a wall acro.ss the whole breadth of the hollow, the ^ of which it irregularly intersected, forming on both hands ii rude course for the winter torrents, and on the right a path which suddenly Inrcame so steep and stony that Wotton judged it prudent lo di^smount while climbing it. Arrived with some labour at the top. he again found himself in the western sunlight, which had been hid ImtIow, and he paused with the bridle in his hand to wonder over a caiceiy ever till that late epoch, did any worshipper of >^ ^ • r<-ly aware that he was worshipping, much to his k of saying to himself : Come let us make a 'xoxk\ Intolerable enough : when every puny whipster draws ' ' ■ :-ts on painting you a scene; so that the . a thing, as wavy outline,' 'mirror of the >lern headland,' or the like, in any Book, you must timorously '. the Author of Waverley nimself can tempt : , Characteristics, III, 28. 140 ai Sorrows of Werter. See 125 9, n. I- nner. An Knglish physician (1749-1823). The dis- • . :iation as a preventive of small-pox. 140 •-' That Basilisk-glance. "The basilisk of elder times w.i (1 of serpent, not above three palms long, as some n.^ :icrenced from other serpents by advancing his head, and !»omc white marks or coronary spots upon the crowii, as all aij" riters have delivered Illy the existency of this animal considerable, but many ihi cred thereof, particularly its poison and its generation. the first, according to the doctrine of the ancients, men - ..w..... that it killeth at a distance, that it poisoneth by the eye, and by priority of vision." Browne, Pseudodoxia EpiJemica, bk. iii. cap. vii. '•' '■ Hadjee. A Mohammedan who has performed the Hajj 1; to Mecca 141 le. wishing-carpet. See The Arabian Nights, \\[.^ story of Ahmed and I'eribanou. — Fortunatus' Hat. Cp. 236 27. But now uncover the virtues of this hat. This clapped on my head, 1 t-iii) with a wish, am through the air Transported in a moment over seas And over lands to any secret place. Dekkek, Old Fortu7iatus, ii. 3. 11. 1:0. in Lv street Advertisements. Cp. 70 2, n. in ,n Lover's Leap. A cape in the island of Leucadia off the - r.illcd the Lover's Leap from the tradition that bajjpiiu liucw herself from the top into the sea. Bk. II, Cap.VL] SORROWS OF TEUFELSDROCKH. x±t. — The broad river Foaming and hurrj'ing o'er its rugged path, Fell into that immeasurable void Scattering its waters to the passing winds. Shelley, Alastor, 567-570. 142 10. Sultan Mahmoud. Mahmoud II., Sultan of Turkey 1808-1839. His war with Russia in 1827-8 would account for Carlyle's mention of him. See E. S. Creasy, History of the Ottoman Turks, II, 374-464. 142 27. no rest. See Gen. viii. 9 ; cp. Par. Lost, i. 227 ff. — till on dry land He lights ; if it were land that ever burn'd With solid, as the lake with liquid fire, such resting found the sole Of unblest feet. 143 9. Son of Time. See 111 22, n. 143 10. Satanic School. See 135 9, n. 143 12. Epictetus. A famous Stoic philosopher, at one time a slave of one of Nero's freedmen. His ' Hand-book,' 'E7xct/)t5iot', a volume of lofty maxims, was collected by his pupil Arrian. Carlyle was familiar with it. See E. Lett., 79, 89, 99. 143 16. The end of Man. "... tAos 6, etc. The end of via n is an action, not a thought, says Aristotle ; the wisest thing he ever said." L. W. C, Wotton Reinfred, 13 ; see Ethics, bk. x. c, 9. sec. i. 143 20. rugged all-nourishing Earth. "'Qpear^pa Trdfi^oTtTdl" internally exclaimed he in Doric words; "'Qpea-repa irdu^oTi Td, thou rugged all-supporting earth ! " L. W. C, Wotton Reinfred, 169. The passage is from Sophocles, Philoctetes, 391 ; cp. C. L. L., II, 311. The Teubner text reads opecTepa irapi^QiTL Td. 143 21. feeds the sparrow. See Ps. cii. 7. 143 27. Estrapades. Falstaff's " strappado," the torture of hoisting the victim into the air, and letting him fall so as to dislocate the arms. The Place de I'Estrapade in Paris, where many Protes- tants thus suffered. — Malzleins. A suburb of Vienna is so called. C- Trans., II, 50. 144 7. Infernal Chase. The legend of a hunter flying through the air with his hounds in full cry is spread over all the north of Europe. See Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie ; Thorpe, Northern Mythology, HI, 61 f., 218 f.; also Scott's translation of Biirger's Z>ist., i. 94 f. 146 12. 'Place of Hope.' This phrase is familiar to those who have listened to Presbyterian prayers. "Let us not mourn as creatures that had no Hope. We are creatures that had an All- Good Creator ; and this earth we live in is named the ' Place of Hope.' " Lett., 303 ; cp. ib., 172, and C. ^. Z., II, 317. 146 22. Doubt had darkened. " Doubt only, pale doubt, rising like a spectral shadow, was to be seen, distorting or obscuring the good and holy ; nay, sometimes hiding the very Holy of Holies from his eye." Z. JV. C, Wotton Rein/red, 32. 146 27. Profit-and-Loss Philosophy. Utilitarianism. "But what, then, was virtue } Another name for happiness, for pleasure } No longer the eternal life and beauty of the universe, the invisible all- pervading effluence of God ; but a poor earthly theorem, a balance of profit and loss resting on self-interest, and pretending to rest on nothing higher." Z. IV. C, Wotton Rein/red, ;^2>- " ^o^ the wise men, who now appear as Political Philosophers, deal exclusively with the Mechanical province ; and occupying themselves in count- ing up and estimating men's motives, strive by curious checking and balancing, and other adjustments of Profit and Loss, to guide them to their true advantage : while, unfortunately, those same ' motives ' are so innumerable, and so variable in every individual, that no really useful conclusion can ever be drawn from their enumeration." Essays, Signs of the limes, II, 148 ; cp. 149 4 ; 200 13, n. 146 28. Soul is not. Cp. 107 10, n. 146 31. one thing needful. See Luke x. 42. 146 32. endure the shame. Heb. xii. 2, adapted. 147 13. Dr. Graham. James (1745-1794); famous quack doctor. His " celestial bed " was an elaborate structure, which was guaran- teed to cure sterility in married people using it. See Diet. Nat. Biog., and Jeaffreson, Lady Hamilton and Lord Nelson, I, 28 f. Lond., 1888; also Melechsala, C.-Trans., I, 161. 147 16. 'chief of sinners.' I Tim. i. 15, adapted. 147 17. Nero . . . fiddling. See Siieto7iius, In Nero., xxii. Tacitus, Annal., 1. xvi. cap. iv. 147 22. Prometheus Vinctus. Usual title of the drama of ^schylus based on the myth of the daring demi-god who stole fire from heaven for the benefit of mortals ; and thereby incurred the anger of Zeus. The temper of the hero is admirably given in the 34S NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. VII. of >tuiuvs Prometheus Unbound, and Goethe's \\,mischte GediehU. See Hesiod, Theogony, 11. !■: ; piness be our true aim. " Show me a man that is show ihcc a man that has — an excellent nervous •pt'rm. Willums. when you write again, it should be an essay on ,»,, ' Sturuiilyr L. \V. C, ll'otton Reitifred, 89 ; cp. /., I, -S9. " Had you ever a diseased liver? etc." the fat things, i Cor. ii. 9, adapted and fused with this cstMbl from hia Journal, - Ihe Devil has his elect." C. E. L., II, 8a MS 6. Sibyl-cave of Destiny. Alluding to- the visit of .tneas lf> • See .Enetd, vi. 11. 36 ff. "(Kut) a deep silence reigns bci... •. ....- curtain ; no one once within it will answer those he has left without ; all you can hear is a hollow echo of your question, as tf jrou shouted into a chasm." Schiller, Gcisf Seh^., iv. 350 ; '• '•• - . ;: : cp. Carlyle. Life of Sehiller, p. 45. Lond., 1874. '. Pillar of Cloud . . . Fire. See Exodus xiii. 21, 22. I4i> 14. Si^le de Louis Quinze. To be exact, Precis du Siecle de Lotttt Xl\ by \ Oltaire. " Les esprits s'eclairerent dans le siecle de I>oui!i XIV'. et dans le suivant plus que dans tous les siecles precedents." lb., ch. xlii. It was the age of the Encyclopedic. MS as. Unprofitable servants. See Luke xvii. 10. MS «•<. Love of Truth. Carlyle's own case. See C. E. L., I, 67. " II» love of truth, he often passionately said, had ruined him ; yet he would not relinquish the search to whatever abysses it might lead," /. //'. C, W'otton Reinfred, 43. MS ;r.v Lubberland. Translation of Schlaraffenland, land of " >()mc lu.xurious I.ubberland. where the brooks should ul the trees l)end witli ready-baked viands." Essays,Wl^ yx. S«« Hans Sachs, Das Schlaraffenland. A favorite word of ■ ■ ■-. .See /.. /r. C. Wotton Rein/red, 95; C. E . L., I, 406, 445 ; ■■<., M, 125; cp. An Invitation to Ltibberland, T. Ashton, /fV/. Humour and Satire of the Seventeenth Century, p. 34. Lond., 18S: n^ M Handwriting on the wall. See Dan. v. 5-28. H'> T. without God. See Kph. ii. 12. M'> 10. in my heart. See I'rov. vii. 3. M'' IT to be weak. Fallen cherub, to be weak is miserable, Doing or tutfering : — Par. Lost, i. 157 f. Bk. II, Cap. VII.j THE EVERLASTING NO. 340 149 27. Know thyself. YvO^Ql aeavrbv, inscribed in letters of gold over the portico of the temple at Delphi. 149 28. what thou canst work at. The resemblance between this and Goethe's second maxim can hardly be accidental : " Wie kann man sich selbst lernen kennen ? Durch Betrachten niemals, wohl aber durch Handeln. Versuche deine Pflicht zu than und du weisst gleich was an dir ist." Maximen u. Rejlexionen, i. 150 28. my own heart. " He abandoned law and hurried into the country, not to possess his soul in peace as he had hoped, but in truth, like Homer's Bellerophon to eat his own heart." Z. W. C, Wotton Rein/red, 43. " Cor ne edito (eat not your heart) Pythag. These are from Bacon." C.-Joicr., p. 54. Cp. also C. E. L., II, 87. This expression is found in Diog. Laert., Vit. Fhilos., viii. 150 31. Faust. See 48 21, n. 150 34. The very Devil. Cp. the speech of Sandy Mackaye, beginning " And sae the deevil's dead." Alton Locke, cap. xxii, end. 151 2. To me the Universe. See 151 23, n. 151 6. Golgotha. See Matt, xxvii. t,^- 151 14. sickness of the chronic sort. In 1819, Carlyle had his first severe attack of dyspepsia. See C. E. Z., I, 78 f . ; Rem., II, 59 ; E. Lett., 1 53. 151 23. From Suicide. The thought of self-destruction had occurred to Carlyle in his years of depression. " My curse seems deeper and blacker than that of any man : to be immured in a rotten carcass, every avenue of which is changed into an inlet of pain, till my intellect is obscured and weakened, and my head and heart are alike desolate and dark. How have I deserved this ? Or is it mere fate that orders these things, caring no jot for merit or demerit, crushing our poor mortal interests among its ponderous machinery, and grinding us and them to dust relentlessly ? I know not. Shall I ever know t Then why don't you kill yourself, sir .? Is there not arsenic ? is there not ratsbane of various kinds ? and hemp .'' and steel ? Most true, Sathanas, all these things are, but it will be time enough to use them when I have lost the game which I am yet but losing. You observe, sir, I have still a glimmering of hope ; and while my friends, my mother, father, brothers, sisters live, the duty of not breaking their hearts would still remain to be performed when hope had utterly fled. For which reason — even if there were no others, which, however, I believe there are — the benevolent Sathanas will excuse me. I do not design to be a suicide. God in heaven forbid. That way I was never tempted. But where is the use of going on NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. VII. i^. i..» 1 am not writing like a reasonable man." Journal, Dec. 'T'iSn; r. E. L^ I. 205. For similar mood, cp. The Two Voices. • * Faust's Deathsong. Carlyle has quoted from memory, uiaL^u(atcl)' Mephistophbles. Und doch isl nic dcr Tod ein ganz willkommner Gast. Faust. sclig dcr, dem er im Siegesglanze IHe blut'gcn Ix)rbcem um die Schlafe wlndet, l>en cr nach rasch durchras'tem Tanze In cincs M.idchens Amien findet. Faust, sc. 4, 11. 1 572-1576. 152 J"- As if all things in the Heavens. "He once quotes from Montaigne the following, as Sceptic's viaticum : ' I plunge »t - "• * '-.id foremost, into this dumb Deep, which swallows me, a; - mc, in a moment, — full of insipidity and indolence.'" t.iMyi^ Dtderoty III, 307. T were best at once to sink to peace, Like birds the charming serpent draws, To drop head foremost in the jaws ( )f V 1, int darkness and to cease. In Mejnoriam, xxiv. 4. S€€ Exodus XX. 4. \hl 23. Full of such humour. " Nothing in 'Sartor Resartus ' (he says) is fact ; symbolical myth all, except that of the incident in the Rue St. Thomas de I'Enfer, which occurred quite literally to mjrsclf in Ix-ith Walk, during three weeks of total sleeplessness, in which almost my one solace was that of a daily bathe on the sands tir(wr4-n I.cith and Portobello. Incident was as I went down ; ; up I generally felt refreshed for the hour. I remember it "... ..lul could go straight to the place." C ^5". Z., I, 103. " It was in no .%cnHe a conversion to any belief in person or creed, it was but ihc as.ok place in hundreds of Dumdrudges all over Great Britain during •' " ' "^ war, when the walnut trees were all cut down to I r muskets. 158 as. " Natural Enemies." A phrase of the time used by "-^ ^f 'he Frenrh. It occurs frequently in literature and ... :n durinp the Napoleonic wars. ' «. "what devilry soever." A blending of "They who dance must pay the piper," and Hon, Epist., I, ii, 14. Bk. II, Cap. VIII. j CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE. ,r^ 160 12. Satanic School. See 135 9, n. 160 25. Like the great Hadrian. " Think first, with blessings and reverence, of the imperial wanderer Hadrian, who on foot, at the head of his army, paced out the circle of the world which was subject to him, and thus in very deed took possession of it." Carlyle, ]\Ieister''s Travels, cap. last. 160 31. Vaucluse. Valla Chiusa, near Avignon. Alison thinks it owes its beauty to the fact that Petrarch resided there. Essay on Taste, i. 25. Lond., 18 17. 161 3. Kings sweated down. In 1806, Napoleon issued the Berlin and Milan decrees ordering the seizure of all British exports and of vessels which had touched at any British port. The measure was intended to exclude English commerce from the Continent and destroy the carrying trade of Britain. As Europe was at this time under the control of Napoleon, the different monarchs were, in Carlyle's opinion, no better than landing-waiters compelled to enforce these customs regulations. 161 5. the World well lost. An allusion to Dryden's tragedy, '' All for Love, or the World Well Lost " (1668). 161 7. All kindreds. Rev. xiii. 7, adapted. 161 15. Great men. This doctrine is expanded in Heroes and Hero- Worship. 161 25. Tree at Triesnitz. So Carlyle .spells it (correctly) in his Life of Schiller. " On such subjects they often corresponded when absent, and conversed when together. They were in the habit of paying long visits to each other's houses ; frequently they used to travel in company between Jena and Weimar. ' At Triesnitz, a couple of English miles from Jena, Goethe and he,' we are told, ' might sometimes be observed sitting at table, beneath the shade of a spreading tree, talking and looking at the current of passengers.' " Carlyle, Life of Schiller, p. 108. London, 1874. 162 3. Pope Pius. Most probably Pius VII., who was pope from I Sod to 1823, was forced to crown Bonaparte emperor, was afterwards taken prisoner by him, and deprived of his power as a temporal prince. — Tarakwang. The emperor of China, Taou- kwang, began his reign in 1820. Many rebellions arose on account of his slackness and inefficiency. See Rev. Charles Gutzlaff, Life of Taonkwang. Lond., 1852. The struggle with the Water Lily fac- tion (Pe-lien-keaou) lasted eight years. 162 12. * Ideologist.' " He (Napoleon) had no longer for adver- saries the few who remained faithful to the political object of the A'OTES. [Hk. II, Cap. VIII. •'4 .!H>m he styled ideologists." Mignet, History of ...//. p. 40' • (Hohn.) lf.2 H. in the Idea. •• Napoleon, der ganz in der Idee lebte, ; >h im llewusst.sein nicht erfas.sen." "In der Idee . ,, Inmogliche behandeln, als wenn es moglich ware." c, Maxim fH u. Ke/lcxiotnn, iv. \U 18. U carri^re. Sec Heroes and Hero -Worship, p. 220. I>ond.. 1S74. MA 10. men alike tall. Similar passage witli different turn, in a translation from Dte Kduber, Essays, II, 286. IW 13. Goliath. See i Sam. xvii. 4-54. IM 96. Hugo of Trimberg. Schoolmaster at Bamberg, 1260- iV-); author of Der Kcnncr ; a moralist. See Cz.x\^\q, Essays, ■y German I.tteraturc, II, 369-376. — God must needs. "To ..Kjlmaster, with empty larder, the pomp of tournaments could never have been specially interesting ; but now such passages of ' s free and gallani soever, appear to him no other than .Mc product of delirium. 'God might well laugh, could It be,* says he, 'to see his mannikins live so wondrously upon this Karih ; two of them will take to fighting and nowise let it alone ; nothing serves but with two long spears they must ride and stick at one another : greatly to their hurt; for when one is by the other vV ■ through the bowels or through the weasand, he hath small J' leby. Hut who forced them to such straits .^ ' The answer is too plain : some modification of Insanity." Essays, Early German ! it(r,iturf, II. y; .\ f. IM ;r.'. Legion. See Mark v. 9. 165 7. Satanic School. See 135 9, n. 165 aa. Boy Alexander. Unus Pcllaeo iuveni non sufficit orbis ; Acstuat infelix angusto limite mundi Ut Gyari clausus scopulis parvaque Seripho. Juvenal, Sat., x. 168. K»5 2:.. Ach Gott, when I gazed. " He stood gazing out upon the starry night. The old man approached, but he knew not what to say. '1)0 they not look down on us as if with pity from their fkcrenc spaces.' .said Reinfred, ' like eyes glistening with heavenly ••• "- over the poor perple.xities of man ! Ilerrliche Gefiihle erstar- .. etc' Their brightness is not bedimmed by any vapour, the mist* of our troubled planet do not reach them. Thousands of Bk. II, Cap. IX.] THE EVERLASTING YEA. 355 human generations, all as noisy as our own, have been engulfed in the abyss of time, and there is no wreck of them seen any more ; and Arcturus and Orion and the Pleiades are still shining in their courses, clear and young as when the shepherd first noted them on the plain of Shinar." Z. W. C, Wotton Reinfred, 9. 165 34. Dog-cage. A wheel into which the turnspit was put, to turn the jack and roast the meat. See Chambers's Book of Days, I, 490, for picture of it. 166 5. dissevered limb. " I am a ' dismembered limb,' and feel it again too deeply. Was I ever other.? " Jouyjial, Jan. 14, 1830 ; C Z. Z., 11, 81. "At present I am but an ahgerissenes G/ied, a limb torn off from the family of Man, excluded from activity, with Pain for my companion and Hope that comes to all rarely visiting me, and what is stranger rarely desired with vehemence." C.-Joiir., p. 30. Ploddam Mill, Sept. 21, 1825. Cp. C. E. Z., I, 323. 166 13. Temptations. See Luke iv. i, 2. 166 15. old Adam. See i Cor. xv. 45, and Col.^ii. 9. 166 20. Work thou. Apparently 2 Thess. iii. 13, adapted, 167 4. carried of the spirit. See Luke iv. i. 167 12. divine handwriting. See 148 34, n. 167 15-17. Wilderness . . . Forty Days. See 166 13, n. 168 8. shadow-hunting. See 144 6-I8. 168 11. Temptation. See 166 13. 168 13. Rue de PEnfer. See 152 23, n. 168 16. Apage Satana. Transliteration of uTraye (rarava. Matt, iv. 10. The usual Latin versions are 'abi,' or 'abscede,' or ' vade'. 168 22. Holy-of-Holies. See 90 1, n., 58 18, n. 168 32. hot Harmattan wind. " His soul seems once to have been rich and glorious, like the garden of Eden ; but the desert-wind has passed over it and smitten it with perpetual blight." Carlyle, Life of Schiller, p. 57. Lond., 1874. "Whatever belonged to the finer nature of man had withered under the Harmattan breath of Doubt, or passed away in the conflagration of open Infidelity." Essays, Goethe, I, 223. 169 13. new Heaven. See Rev. xxi. i. 169 14. Annihilation of Self. This is distinctively Christian doctrine. 169 18. healing sleep. See above, 1. 12. 169 19. Pilgrim-staff. See 135 I6, n. 169 20. 'high table-land.' See below, 1. 29. NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. IX. 17t) »7. Schreckhorn. Peak of Terror. Several mountains -' n.»mc in the I'-crnese Alps. mad witch's hair. Apparently a recollection of Ma7i' ''(J, act it 8c. 2. - How thou fermentest. One of Schmelzle's terrors was . of a • ferment ' in the air. See C.-Traus., II, 92-94. 171 «. Living Garment. See 4S 2Q. Sweeter than Dayspring. The expedition of Barendz . rd.nn in May 1596 and was wrecked on Nova Zembla. >. •.. ntct-n men lived through the winter. Barendz, who died on the home. left a journal, and it is to this entry in it that Carlyle • • :.. "On lanuary 27, we saw it mounting in all its roundness on the horizon, which rendered us very happy. We thank God for the "* vouchsafed to u.>^ by restoring the light." Wipe away all tears. See Rev. xxi. 4. 1713?. " Sanctuary of Sorrow." Goethean phrase. " I invite •urn hither at the end of a year, to visit our general festival, ., .. :,..w far your son is advanced ; then shall you be admitted into the Sanctuary of Sorrow." •* iVrmii me one question," said Wilhelm : " As you have set up thf Hfc of this divine Man for a pattern and example, have you like- • selected his sufferings, his death, as a model of exalted vjubtcdly we have," replied the Eldest. " Of this we make no secret : but we draw a veil over those sufferings, even because nee them so highly. We hold it a damnable audacity to : ;ih the torturing Cross, and the Holy One who suffers on it, expose them to the light of the sun, which hid its face when a ■ I'-ss world forced such a sight on it ; to take these mysterious ts, in which the divine depth of Sorrow lies hid, and play with .. fondle them, trick them out, and rest not till the most rever- end of all solemnities appears vulgar and paltry." Meister's Travels, cap. xi., Carlyle's translation ; see Lett., 301 ; C. E. L., II, 260. 172 I. Divine Depth of Sorrow. See 171 33, n. 172 81. Man's Unhappiness. This is also Browning's philosophy 172 99. Soul . . . Stomach. See 107 10, n. 172 34. Ophiuchus. And like a comet burn'd That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In th' Arctic sky Par. Lost, ii. 708. Shadow of Ourselves. See 143 4. Bk. II, Cap. IX.] THE EVERLASTING YEA. ^^y 173 9. But the whim we have. " When we speak of happi- ness and being happy, we half unconsciously mean some extra enjoyment, if I may say so, pleasure, some series of agreeable sensa- tion, superadded to the ordinary pleasure of existing, which really, if free from positive pain, is all we have right to pretend to. In place of reckoning ourselves happy when we are not miserable, we reckon ourselves miserable when not happy. A proceeding, if you think of it, quite against rule ! What claim have I to be in raptures .■* None in the world, except that I have taken such a whim into my own wise head ; and having got so much, I feel as if I could never get my due " And so when the young gentleman goes forth into the world, and finds that it is really and truly not made of wax, but of stone and metal, and will keep its own shape, let the young gentleman fume as he likes ; bless us, what a storm he gets into ! What terrible elegies and pindarics and Childe Harolds and Sorrows of Wertcr ! O devil take it, Providence is in the wrong ; has used him (sweet, meritorious gentleman) unjustly. He will bring his action of damages against Providence ! Trust me a hopeful lawsuit! " L. W. C, IVotton Reinfred, 92-94 ; cp. ib. i. 173 28. the Fraction of Life. See 116 24, n. " The fraction of life will increase equally by dimitiishing the denominator as by augmenting \k\QVi\\xcvQ,x2Xox. [March 1827.] — C-y(?z^r., p. 46. 173 34. It is only with Renunciation. The exact reference to Goethe has eluded me ; but cp. sub-title to Wilhelm Aleister's Wanderjahre and Wahrheit u. Dicht., bk. xvi., " Unser physisches sowohl als geselliges Leben, Sitten, Gewohnheiten, Weltklugheit, Philosophie, Religion, ja so manches zufallige Ereigniss, Alles ruft uns zu: dass wir entsagen sollen.'" With Carlyle, Entsagen "means briefly a resolution fixedly and clearly made to do without the various pleasant things — wealth, promotion, fame, honour, and the other prizes with which the world rewards the services \A\\c\\ it appre- ciates." See C. E. Z., II, 355, n., and ib., 268 ; also Nichol, Thomas Carlyle, 231 ; N. Y., 1892 ; Moncure Conway, Thomas Carlyle, 81; N. Y. 1 88 1; and Essays, N'ovalis, II, 93. 174 9. What Act of Legislature. "There is no Act of Parlia- ment in Heaven's Chancery that you or I are to be rich men or famous men ; only the sternest and solemnest enactment that we are to be good men, 'diligent in business and fervent in .spirit' — reverencing the inscrutable God, and ' friendly at once and fearless towards all that God has made.' " Lett., 163 ; May i, 1830. NOTES. [Bk. II, Cap. IX. 174 17 Ea leuchtet mir ein. In his essay on Goethe in 1828, Carlylc praised especially the tenth and eleventh chapters of Wan- dtruikrc iJ'.ssays, I. 240) and quoted largely from them. It is not .urprising to find here Goethe's very words. Cp. Wzlhelm Metster^s f, . .!.rf^ bk. i. cap. 2. p. 3S2; Goethe, Sdmmtl. Werke, III; v: 1S54; and Mc-isUr's Travels, p. 207 ; Lond., 1868. 175 1 Love not Pleasure. 2 Tim. iii. 4. adapted. •-- •.». Zeno. A Greek Stoic philosopher of the sth century. , was the manner of his end. As he left his school he fell and broke hia finger. At once he began to strike the earth with his hand, and recilinp this verse from the tragedy of Niobe, < I come, why dost thou call me t ' he hanged himself." Diog. Laert., Vit. PkiiM.,r^ Carlyle is not quite correct as to the 'trampling.' He may have l>een thinking of J3iogenes trampling on the pride of riato. If , hi.s curtains. See Ritter, III, 450 ff. Oxford, 1839. 175 ".'. Greater than Zeno. See Matt. xii. 41, 42. 175 10. "Worship of Sorrow." "Christianity, the 'Worship of Sorrow,' has been recognized as divine, on far other grounds than ' K&sa)'s on Miracles,' and by considerations infinitely deeper than ■ .ivail in any mere ' trial by jury.' " Essays, Voltaire, II, 67. \\\. doleful creatures. See Isa. xiii. 21. 175 a-i. Baal-Priests. See i Kings xviii. 17-40. 175 97. Herr von Voltaire. See Essays, II, 5-78. 176 3. Wilt thou help us. " His (Voltaire's) task was not one of Affirmation, but of Denial ; not a task of erecting and rearing up, '. is slow and laborious ; but of destropng and overturning, ii in most cases is rapid and far easier. The force necessary for him was nowise a great and noble one ; but a small, in some ts a mean one ; to be nimbly and seasonably put in use. The lan Temple, which it had employed many wise heads and • arms for a lifetime to build, could be unhxxWt by one mad- man m a single hour." Essays, Voltaire, II, 69. 176 u. Worship of Sorrow. See 175 10, n. 176 w. •' Plenary Inspiration." " His polemical procedure . . . turns wc l>clicve exclusively on one point : what Theologians have called the * plenary Inspiration of the Scriptures.' This is the single wall apainst which, through long years, and with innumerable batter- ing-ram.s and catapults and pop-guns, he unweariedly batters. Con- cc1 ^^ Doubt of any sort. Prof. Blackie gives this maxim in almost these words, in his Wisdcm of Goethe, p. 4, N. Y., 1884, t identify it. "Do the Duty which lies nearest thee." "The safe ;.Un ts always simply to do the task that lies nearest us." Carlyle, • nticeship, vii. i ; cp. ib., 3. L-iaariO. "The reposing polished manhood of Lotha- Etsays, Cofthe, I, 231. " I recollect the letter which you sent ■ ••■ Ml world," said Jamo. " It contained the words : in my house, amid my fields, among my people, I wUI say : Hfre <"• n(nvhere is America ! ' " Carlyle, Meister's hif, vii. 3. ' here or nowhce.' See above, 178 5, n. 178 91. the beginning of Creation. See Gen. i. 3. See also I :;. I7i> .'i. Till the eye. Hased on Matt. vi. 22, 23. 17V i. Whatsoever thy hand. Eccles. ix. 10, and John ix. 4, ! and adapted. Cp. Goethe. ]Vest-ost. Divan, Hikinet A'ameh. ■ \\. Conversion. The year 1825, which Carlyle spent at tm Hill, was "perhaps the most triumphantly im.portant of my life." Kftn., II, 179. "The final chaining down, trampling home •' - -ofKl,' home into their caves for ever of all my spiritual dragons, . had wrought me such woe, and for a decade past had made my life black and bitter. (F"ootnote. First battle, one in the Rue dc I'Knfcr — Ix-ith Walk — four years before. Campaign not ended til! now.) This year 1826 saw the end of all that, with such a ^' on my part as may be fancied. I found it to be essen- ' ! Mcthodi-it«i of nerves and chagrins, a constant inward happiness that was Bk. II. Cap. X.] PAUSE. -5 J quite royal and supreme ; in which all temporal evil was transient and insignificant." Re7n., IL i8o, and C. E. L., 1,312 ; cp. 152 23, n. 179 18. Ecce Homo. See John xix. 5 (Vulgate). 179 19. Choice of Hercules. Nam quod Herculem Prodicium dicunt, ut est apud Xenophontem, quum primum pubesceret, quod tempus a natura ad deligendum, quam quisque viam vivendi sit ingressurus datum est, exisse in solitudinem atque ibi sedentem diu secum multumque dubitasse, quum duas cerneret vias, unam Volup- tatis, alteram Virtutis, utram ingredi melius esset, hoc Herculi lovis satu edito potuit fortasse contingere, — Cicero, De Officiis, I, xxxii. " O Prodicus ! Was thy ' Choice of Hercules ' written to shame us ; that after twenty centuries of ' perfectibility ' we are here still arguing ? " Z. W. C, Wotton Reinfred, 100 f. 179 24. Zinzendorfs. Nikolaus, Count v. Zinzendorf (1700- 1760), was prominent in the sect of Moravians or United Brethren ; and gave them a refuge on his estate, Herrnhut. 179 27. ''work in well-doing." See 166 20, and n. 180 9. Papin's Digester. Denis Papin {\(i^-j-c. 1712) in 1681 presented a paper to the Royal Society describing his invention of a " digester or engine for softening bones." To this machine was applied for the first time the principle of the safety-valve ; the title of the French tract describing it explains C.'s allusion fully. " La maniere d'amollir les os et de faire couire toutes sortes de viandes en fort peu de tems et a peu de frais, etc." See Dechanel, Natural Philosophy, II. Heat, p. 360. Lond., 1888. Cp. 190 26. 180 14. Aaron's Rod. See Exodus vii. 10, 20 ; viii. 6, 17. 180 21. The Word. See John i. 1-3. 180 27. to spend. See 2 Cor. xii. 15. 180 33. seed-field of Opinion. An application of the motto, *' Mein Acker, etc.'"' See n., p. 275. 181 7. mustard-seed. See Matt. xiii. 31, 32. 181 32. Solon's and Lycurgus's Constitutions. See Lang- home's Phitarch, I, 262-284 ; 135-152. Lond., 1809. 181 33. Justinian's Pandects. See Gibbon, Decline and Eall, VIII, ch. xliv. pp. 33-1 1 1. Lond., 1807. — Code Napoleon. The total alteration of the laws of France by Napoleon ; based on Justinian's Institutions. See Scott, Life of Napoleon Buonaparte, VI, 44-66. Edin., 1827. 182 13. no Property in our very Bodies. " I have no property in anything whatsoever ; except perhaps (if I am a virtuous man) in my own free will. Of my body I have only a life rent ; of all that is f^^ NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. I. , >,..,. V,..;, .4;. accidental possessi.m, so long as I can keep .;/, C.E.U 11, 94 •.-.'. Nose-of-Wax. •• Laws altered, misconstrued, interpreted ;, as the Judge is made by his friends, bribed or otherwise !•: a nose of wax. good to day, none to-morrow." Burton, Atutt^my 0/ Mttancholy, Democritus to the Reader. I'.ut vows with you being like 1 o y«>iir religion, a nose of wax To be turned every way." Massincer, Tfu Unfuih'.ral Combat, v. 2. 1S4 13. pretences of interpretation. For Carlyle's interpreta- ..• /j.,;!/. I>i,ic)ot, III, 287. ; selected. I'v Diogenes Teufelsdrockh himself. See 6, Serpcnt-ot-Eternity. " I have made an important im- , . _:i.'_iii ill the I >cvice of t!;e Seal. Instead of a plain Ring round the Star, we will have a Serpent-of-Eternity (its tail in its mouth, untverH;illy understood as the emblem of Eternity), and on the body of 1/ the words engraved. It can be made larger than the ring tould — and then a Star travelling through Eternity, 0/ine Hast, etc.; this seems to me a really beautiful emblem." Lett., 209. IM ». not what he did. See above, 1. 7. IS4 jFi. The imprisoned Chrysalis. I'syche is the Greeks' pet- ition t»f the soul, and her emblem is the butterfly. V Lover's Leap. See 141 29. 1^^ 11 'pools and plashes.' See 141 32. lf»5 V6. Hell-gate Bridge. See Par. Lost, ii. 1 024-1033. iJiS 3*i. Through many. T is pleasant through the loopholes of retreat To peep at such a world. Cow PER, The Task, iv. 186 7. ' Living Garment.' See 48 22, 31. 18^. u«. • diluted madness.' Carlyle used this term to describe l^mb'.H wit. .Sfc A' lespieds jusqu'a la tete ; U allait criant centre la guerre et contre le clerge." f des Quakers. I),, ine Idea. " Accc^rding to Fichte, there is a ' Divine ,,;......;,; the Msil>lc Universe; which visible Universe is „i ils symbol and sensible manifestation, having in itself no • even true exi.stence independent of it. To the mass of ,, ; .ivinc Idea of the world lies hidden ; yet to discern it, to •, and live wholly in it. is the condition of all genuine virtue, frecdum : and the end. therefore, of all spiritual effort in literary Men are the appointed interpreters of this iMvinc Wca; a perpetual priesthood, we might say, standing forth, generation after generation, as the dispensers and living types of (,«//. I mrscM reprehend his own person, for I am his grace's tharborough. Lox'e s Labour'' s Lost, i. i. lint I know my remedy, I must go fetch the thirdborough. Sly. Third or fourth or fifth borough, I "11 answer him by law. Taming 0/ the Shrew, hiducticn. 190 19. drink beer. Carlyle's wonderful memory is at fault h- ' ''<• hardly does the Leicestershire parsons justice. What i.i Mian Jut advise Fox to do was to "take tobacco and sing psalms." part of which recommendation is distinctly edifying and p. I ' • have induced such a smoker as Carlyle to exercise a III ..y in the matter. Poor Fox complains that he did not like tuliacco and could not sing. J-'ox's Journals, I, 79. This counsel ni ' ■ ' ■ n mistaken, but it was not vicious. The error may N ;ie's confu.sing this with another incident. Fox, like Hjrron. had no objection to a pot of beer ; but being once urged, »' -uch refreshment, by a "professor,*' to assist in an Off-, . drinking, he refused, paid his shot and walked off. /tntrmaJj, I, 76 f. Sec Wsitson's Li/e 0/ George Fox, p. 22. Lond., l** " irsh, .4 Popular Life of George Fox, p. 30. Lond., 1847. / J .. naif, I. 70. Lond., 1.S27. 190 90. Blind leaders. See Matt. xv. 14. 190 M. Patent Digester. See 180 y, n. Bk, III, Cap, I.] INCIDENT IN HISTORY. 36^ 191 3. Loretto-shrine. Near Ancona in Italy, "the Christian Mecca." The shrine is said to be the house in Nazareth in which Mary was born and brought up. See Swift, Tale of a Tub, sec. 4. 191 13. hollow of a tree " But my troubles continued and I was often under great temptations ; and I fasted^ much and walked abroad in solitary places many days, and often took my bible and went and sat in hollow trees and lonesome places till night came on." Fox's Journals, I, 82. Lond., 1827. 191 15. perennial suit. " Now, though it might seem not very agreeable with the gravity of my work, to mention what kind of clothes he wore in these first years of his peregrination ; yet 1 do not account it absurd to say here, that it is true what a certain author, viz., Gerard Croes, relates of him, that he was clothed with leather ; but not as the said author adds, because he could not, nor would not, forget his former leather work ; but it was partly for the simplicity of that dress, and also because such a clothing was strong and needed but little mending or repairing." Sewel, History of the Quakers, I, 20. Lond., 181 1. Cp. Fox''s Journals, I, 146. Lond., 1827. 191 24. Angelo. Michelangelo Buonarotti (147 5-1 564), the sculptor of the David and the Moses, and decorator of the vSistine chapel ceiling. — Rosa, Salvator (1615-1673), Neapolitan painter, noted for his romantic landscapes and battle-pieces. The bracket- ing of these names in this connection indicates Carlyle's ignorance of art. See M. D. Conway, Thomas Carlylc, p. 116. N. Y., 1S81. 191 34. Vanity holds. Carlyle wishes to convey the idea that the world from which Fox escapes is at once frivolous, laborious and sordid. To do this, he combines in one phrase the notions represented by Vanity Fair of Pilgrim's Progress, the English work- house, and the squalid, vicious street of London known as Ragfair. 192 5. for the Poor. Matt. xi. 5, adapted. 192 6. D'Alembert. Jean le Rond (17 17-1783), French philosor pher and mathematician, wrote for the Dictionnaire Encyclopedique, the Discours preliminaire. 192 7. Diogenes ... the greatest man. His lack of decency is fully discussed in Bayle's Dictionary. For his sayings see Diog. Laert., Vit. Philos., vi. 192 16. Cynic's Tub. "Diogenes . . . dressed himself in the garment which distinguished the Cynics and walked about the streets with a tub on his head, which served him as a house and a place of repose." Levipriere. 3^6 NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. II. ..... 'perennial suit.' See 191 ir, n. icrfectibility of Society. Cp. 189 19, n. North Cape, .^ce 16.> -(. = 164 8. more meant. And if AupJit else pre.U bards beside In »4ge and solemn tunes have sung, ( >1 tumcy* and of trophies hung ; ()( forests and enchantments drear, Where more is meant than meets the ear. Milton, 11 Pefiseroso, 115-120. 193 y Mammon-god. .^ce 191 X). 193 6. Vanity's Workhouse. See 191 34, n. 193 M. Fancy-Bazaar. The Soho bazar in London dates from 1806 and U slill in operation. 193 li. Day and Martin. A well-known London firm, makers of l»Uckinp for Ix.ots. ("p. Carlyle, Frederick the Great, I, I. 19.; -ii. Gibeonites. See Josh. ix. 3-27. 194 13. life-giving Word. See John i. 3, 4, 14. I'M 16. wonder of wonders. Cp. 248 24, n. I'M 1:. two or three. See Matt, xviii. 20. 194 SO. cloven tongues. See Acts ii. 3. • - Novalis. I'seudonym of Friedrich von Hardenberg ; , _ -'01), .1 < ierman mystic, author of I/einrich von Oftcrdingen. HymMfH an die Nacht, Bluthenstaub. See Carlyle's characteriza- tion, /issays, H, 79-134. I'M 5l«. It is certain. " Ks ist gewiss, dass eine Meinung sehr vid gewinnt, .sobalil ich weiss, dass irgend jemand davon iiberzeugt \\\, %ic wahrhaft annimmt." A'ova/is Schriften, II, 104. Berlin, lS.*(>. (Quoted also, l-'.ssays. Characteristics^ III, 15; cp. 7 4. l9^ H. virtue goes out. Mark v. 30, adapted. getrosten Muthes. .\ form of expression occurring in I'-rrrspondeiue. ("p. Lett., 54, 227, 235 ; C. E. L., II, 149. hollow shapes. Cp. 214 10. I'A) »7. ghastly affectation of Life. Cp. 214 12. " Meanwhile it i» »inf*ular how long the rotten will hold together, provided you do not handle it roughly. For whole generations it continues stand- ing. • with a ghastly affectation of life,' after all life and truth has • of it ; so loth are men to quit their old ways, and conquer- •loncc and inertia, venture on new." French Revolution, The Hmtuiif, bk. it cap. iii. 196 89. new Vestures. Cp. 215 3. Bk. Ill, Cap. III. SYMBOLS. 267 197 5. Palingenesia. See 29 31 and 243 28. 197 26. Paper-bags. See 69 3, n. 198 5. Altars might still. " Well might the Ancients make Silence a god ; for it is the element of all godhood, infinitude or transcendental greatness ; at once the source and the ocean where all such begins and ends." Essays, III, 21 ; cp. C. E. L., II, 235. 198 10. William the Silent. "William of Orange earned the surname of ' the Silent ' from the manner in which he received these communications of Henry without revealing to the monarch, by word or look, the enormous blunder he had committed." Motley, J^ise of the Dutch Republic, pt. ii. ch. i. p. 233. Lond., 1889. 198 18. Speech is too often. " La parole a ete donnee a I'homme pour deguiser sa pensee," attributed by Barere to Talley- rand. Cp. Biichmann, Geflilgclte Wortc, 391, 17th ed., for fuller dis- cussion. 198 22. Swiss Inscription. It is still to be seen carved in the wood-work of old Swiss houses. 198 27. Bees will not work. " Beware of speaking. Speech is human, silence is divine, yet also brutish and dead : therefore we must learn both arts ; they are both difficult. Flower roots hidden under soil. Bees working in darkness, etc. The soul, too, in silence. Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth. Indeed secrecy is the element of all goodness ; every virtue, every beauty is mysterious." Journal, C. E. L., II, 93. 198 29. Let not thy left hand. See Matt. vi. 3. 198 33. Like other plants. " Under all her works, chiefly under her noblest work. Life, lies a basis of Darkness, which she benignantly conceals ; in Life, too, the roots and inward circulations which stretch down fearfully to the regions of Death and Night, shall not hint of their existence, and only the fair stem with its leaves and flowers, shone on by the fair sun, shall disclose itself and joyfully grow." Essays, Characteristics, III, 8. 199 19. Seal-Emblem. This was written before the invention of envelopes, in the age of wax and wafers. Carlyle's own seal was a candle with the motto, Terar dum prosim. In 1S31 some English admirers of Goethe presented him with a gold seal. The device was a serpent of eternity about a star, and the motto Ohne Hast Aber Ohne East. See G.-Corr., 291-295 ; and 184 17, n. 199 32. the Universe ... one vast Symbol. " Is not all visible nature, all sensible existence the symbol and vesture of the Invisible and Infinite t Is it not in these material shows of things 3H\ XOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. III. „„„.,„ Mlity are shadowed forth and made mani- :atcrial nature is as a Fata-morgana, hanging in the •..ud.picture, but painted by the heavenly light ; in itself it •inpness, but behind it is the glory of the sun." Kitufriii, 137. \ti .. •' Messias of Nature." " Man has evei expressed some ^^' ., of his I'.eing in his Works and Conduct ; he uid his (Jospel of Nature; he is the Messiah of \..!utr • Essays, Nm'alis, II, i iS. " Man is heaven-bom ; not the thrill of fircum.stances. of Necessity, but the victorious subduer thereof ; behold h.>vv he can become the ' Announcer of himself and of hU Freedom ; ' and is ever what the Thinker named him, ' the Mc^sias of Nature!'" Id., BosiudPs Life of Johnson, III, 98 f. ; ux Xi'^ttlts S.hrtftni,\\. 169. Berlin, 1837. 200 13. Motive-Millwrights. Carlyle was opposed to the Utili- tarian philosophy, and thLs is his interpretation or travesty of it. Sec Richard C.irnett. Life tf Thomas Carlyle, 171. Lond., 1887. 200 \\. Fantastic tricks. Man, proud man I Drcst in a little brief authonty, Most ignorant of what he 's most assured, His glassy essence — like an angr>' ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, As make the angels weep. Measure for Measure, ii. 2. 200 16. heap of Glass, ".\nother thinks he is a nightingale, ai> • -c sinR.'i all the night long; another he is all glass, a pK - i will therefore let nobody come near him, and such a one I.aurenttus gives out upon his credit, that he knew in France." Hurton, Auatomy of Mfuituholy, part I, sec. 3, mem. i, subs. 3. 200 It*. There stands he. " Huridan (died about 1358) is the creator of the famous ass, which, as Biirdiii's ass, was current in Kurgundy, perhaps is, as a vulgar proverb. . . . The story told about the famous paradox is very curious. The Queen of France, Joanna or Jeanne, was in the habit of sewing her lovers up in sacks, and throwing them into the Seine ; not for blabbing, but that they might not blab — certainly the safer plan. Ikiridan was exempted, and. in gratitude, invented the sophism. . . . The argument is as follows, and Ls seldom told in full . Huridan was for free-will — that is, will which determines conduct, let motives be ever so evenly bal- anced. An ass is equally pressed by hunger and thirst; a bundle of hay b on one side, a pail of water on the other. Surely, you will Bk. Ill, Cap. Ill] SYMBOLS. ,5q say, he will not be ass enough to die for want of food and drink ; he will then make a choice — that is, will choose between alternatives of equal force. The problem became famous in the schools ; some allowed the poor donkey to die of indecision ; some denied the possibility of the balance, which was no answer at all." l)e Morgan, Budget of Paradoxes, p. 28. Lond., 1872. 2015. Marseillese Hymns. " Dusty of face, with frugal refresh- ment, they plod onward ; unweariable, not to be turned aside. Such march will become famous. The Thought, which works voiceless in this black-browed mass, an inspired Tyrtaean Colonel, Rouget de Lille, whom the earth still holds (1836), has translated into grim melody and rhythm ; into his Hymn or March of the Marseillese : luckiest musical-publication ever promulgated." French Revohitioti, The Constitution, bk. vi. ; The Marseilles, cap. ii. For use of plurals cp. 2 l, n. Against the Utilitarian theory of motives, Carlyle exalts the part played by the emotions in human affairs. For the view which Carlyle opposes see Godwin, Thoughts on Man, p. 240. Lond., 1831. 201 8. medicating virtue. Vis medicatrix naturae. 201 12. King . . . Priest . . . Prophet. See 80 25, n. 201 29. Kaiser Joseph. The Second of Austria (1741-1790), son of Francis L and Maria Theresa. He is remembered as a high- minded but injudicious reformer. His refusal to be crowned king of Hungary was one of his great blunders. The iron crown was worn only once by the Hungarian monarchs, on the day of their corona- tion. It was removed from Presburg to Vienna by his orders in 1784, and sent back to the cathedral at Buda in 1790, after his death. 201 33. lives, works. See 2 26, n. 202 9. Bauernkrieg. One phase of the Reformation in Gerrpany in the years 1524-25. See D'Aubigne, History of the Refor7nation, bk. ix. chs. X, xi. 202 10. Nether land Gueux. See Motley, Rise of the Dutch Re- public, I, p. 515 f. and p. 520 (N. Y., 3 vols., 1856), for a most spirited account of how the name originated. 202 12. King Philip. Philip the Second of Spain. 202 20. Costumes and Customs. See 30 12, n. 202 27. The Cross. Cp. 203 26 ff. 203 20. present God. Cp. A present deitj^ they shout around, A present deity the vaulted roofs rebound. Dryden, Alexander'' s Feast, 35 i and Acts xii. 21-23. XOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. IV. ., .> old. >^^ !'>• ci>- -^^■ !',.::. Thor. ' Kunick ' was used loosely to mean Norse, I i.or is the war-god Thunder, representing the lu Nature. For his deeds see the Eider Edda, Mumbo-Jumbo. "()n the 7th of December, 1 795- I ■ ,„jour. and slept in a village called Malla (or Mal- tli, alx>ut noon, 1 arrived at Kalor, a considerable toini. near the entrance of which I observed, hanging upon a tree, a .on of • "Ic habit, made of the bark of trees, which I was told on L . clonged to Mumbo-Jumbo. This is a strange bug- l>car common in 4he Mandingo towns, and much employed by the pagan natives in keeping their women in subjection." Mungo Park, /Vutr//. p. .J 3. N- v., 1S13. TsyS \'i. Pawaw. Eraser and the cditio princeps have ' Wau- Wau.* Wah-wah. or wow-wow, is the name of an Indian ape. Pow- wow is priest, conjurer, medicine-man. 204 IT. Ancient Pistol thought. Fortune is Bardolph's foe and frowns on liim ; For he lias stoPn a pix, and hanged must a' be. For j.ix of little price. , ... Henry I ., ui. 6. 2M •.•«. Pontiff. See 70 .30, n. 204 •;■* Promcthcus-like. See 147 22, n. 20.^ «. "Champion of England." To the family of Dymocke lK-l<»ngH the otVicc of hereditary champion. He appears at the icrcmony in full armor. The reference is to the coronation of (ieorge IV., July 19, ii>2i. See East a)id Ercscnt, bk. iii, cap. i. p. I J I. 20.S -. Ragfair. See 191 :m, n. 205 M. Repression of Population. This pamphlet is simply a pej» fi>r ("arlyle t«> hani; his views of Malthusianism upon. 20.^ SI. Malthus. T. K. Malthus (i 766-1834) advocated the ' population increases in geometrical proportion, the i-tence increases only in arithmetical proportion. One remedy for poverty lies in parents' limiting by self-restraint the numlicr of their children. His theory is more often denounced and misr. Drrsintrd than disproved. Cp. 21 27, n. his zeal. See Ps. Ixix. 9. vhluted forms of Madness. See 1S6 u, n. Bk. Ill, Cap. TV.] HELOTAGE. 371 206 14. Zahdarm . . . Futteral. See bk. ii. caps. iv. (p. 115) and i. ii. 207 6. bread of Life. See John vi. 35. 207 15. Guidance, Freedom, Immortality. This passage is apparently based on this axiom of Novalis quoted, Essays, II, 118. " Philosophy can bake no bread ; but she can procure for us God, Freedom, Immortality. Which then is more practical, Philosophy or Economy.?" See Novalis Schrif ten, II, 124. Berlin, 1837. 207 17. chaff and dust. An adaptation of two passages, Ps. i. 4 and John iii. 8. 207 26. light shining. See John i. 5. 207 33. heavy-laden. See Matt. xi. 28. 207 34. smoky cribs. " Why rather, sleep, ly'st thou in smoky cribs — " Hetiry IV., b. iii. i. 208 9. Breath of God. See Gen. ii. 7. 208 18. The old Spartans. " As often as the slave population appeared to be growing strong and it was thought expedient to weaken and terrify them, murderous raids were made against them to keep down their number and their spirit. Thucydides, an author of reputation, unsurpassed for grave veracity and caution, tells a tale of what happened in his own day, soon after the death of Pericles." Langhorne's Plutarch, p. 226. Cp. id., crypteia. 208 29. Have them salted. The idea is Swift's and may be found elaborated with the coolest cynicism in his tract, " A Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland from Being a Burden to their Parents or Country, and for making them Beneficial to the Public." 1729. 209 14; too crowded indeed. " Must the indomitable millions, full of old Saxon energy and fire, lie cooped up in this Western Nook, choking one another, as in a Blackhole of Calcutta, while a whole fertile untenanted Earth, desolate for want of the plough- share, cries : Come and till me, come and reap me .'' If the ancient Captains can no longer yield guidance, new must be sought after." Essays, Characteristics, III, 44. This is the usual argument and merely puts off the evil day. 209 21. the Curragh. A district in the centre of county Kil- dare, Ireland, famous as a hunting ground. 209 24. Hengsts. See 18 1, n.— Alarics. See Gibbon, Decline and Eall, III, 265-452. Lond., 1866. 209 26. Fire-pillars. See Exodus xiii. 21. 209 27. living Valour. XOTES. [Bk. Ill.Cap. V. When thi3 fier>' mass Of living valour rolling on the foe And burning with high hope.— Byron, ChilcU Harold, iii. 27. 209 30. Preserving their Game. See 84 15, n. .'!'- 1' Pericardial Nervous Tissue. See 196 5. jlu .'^. calls It Peace. Kor similar thought compare, ^^•t,.^, ,^,-, ,»^^ prate of the blessings of Pec.ce ? we have made them a curse , h hand lusting for all that is not its own ; .. in the spirit of Cain, is it better or worse Than ihe heart of the citizen hissing in war on his own hearthstone ? irc the days of advance, the works of the men of mind , but a fiHjl would liave faith in a tradesman's ware or his word ? U tt peace or v»-ar ? Civil war, as I think, and that of a kind n>e \ilcr. as underhand, not openly bearing the sword. Tennyson, Maud, i. 6, 7. 211 •«. Laissez-faire. "What is this universal cry {ox Laissez- fatrt f I>oc-> it mean that human affairs require no guidance ; that wuidoin and forethought cannot guide them better than folly and accident .* Alas, does it not mean : Such guidance is worse than none! Leave us alone of your guidance; eat your wages, and sleep! .\nd now if guidance have grown indispensable, and the sleep continue, what becomes of the sleep and its wages t " Carlyle, Chartism, caj). vi. 211 20. 'observant eyes.' See above, 1. 7. 211 23. Wahngasse. See 16 '34, n. 212 .1. as Rousseau prayed. See ISS 19, n. 21.? 9. Water of Life. See Rev. xxii. 17. 21.3 1.1. 'Armament of Mechanisers.' See 212 18, 23. 21.3 21. divested. One of Carlyle's recondite puns. Reference to the common phrase, ' vested interests,' and play on the literal meanini; of the word. 21.3 23. Irish watchcoat. Carlyle, as an admirer of Sterne, may refer to his tale, " The History of a Watchcoat," which "was pur- chased and given . . . by the lord of the manor, to this parish-church, to the sole use and behoof of the poor sextons thereof, and their suc- cessors for ever, to be worn by them respectively in winterly cold nights, in ringing complines, passing hells, etc." Works of Laurence Sterne, II, p. 625. I.ond., 1.SS5. "Patched all over like an Irish- man's coat." Kingsley, Wo.tcr-Babics, p. 89. Lond., 1S91. 21.3 3f.. Job's-news. (ierman [Hiobspost), not English, for tidings of disaster. See Job i. 13-19. Bk. Ill, Cap. v.] THE PHCENIX. ^73 213 27. into the wheel-spokes. " Yoii purpose, single In all Europe, alone, to fling yourself Against the wheel of Destiny that rolls For ever its appointed course ; to clutch Its spokes with mortal arm? " Schiller, Don Carlos, iii. lo. Translated by Carlyle, Life of Schiller, 64 f. Lond., 1874. 214 1. * Inevitable and Inexorable.' See 213 3o. 214 2. diabolico-angelical Indifference. See 28 1. 214 4. huge Ragfair. See 191 34, n. — rags and tatters. See 205 7. 214 7. 'unhunted Helots.' See 208 19 ff, and 208 18, n. 214 8. sic vos non vobis. " Thus do ye but not for yourselves." Part of lines attributed to Virgil. Donatus, Life of Virgil, ij. Sic vos non vobis nidificatis aves. Sic vos non vobis vellera fertis oves, Sic vos non vobis mellificatis apes, Sic vos non vobis fertis aratra boves. " The rule, Sic vos non vobis, never altogether to be got rid of in men's Industry, now presses with such incubus weight that Industry must shake it off, or utterly be strangled under it." Essays, Charac- teristics, III, 25. 214 10. * empty Masks.' See 196 22 ff. * Pinnacle of Weissnichtwo.' See 16 25, n. mortal coil. " When we have shuffled off this mortal coil." Hamlet, iii. i, 66. two or three. See 194 17 n. Religion. See 196 28 f. aphorism of Saint Simon's. For his philosophy, see Doctrine de Saint-Simon, Exposition, Premiere Annee, 1828-1829, 3d ed. Paris, 1831 ; CEuvres Choisies de C. H. de Saint-Simon pre- cedees dhin Essai sur sa Doctrine. 3 vols. Paris, 1839 ; and Quarterly Review, 183 1, pp. 407-450. ^^^\ 215 12. the Phoenix. " That there is but one phoenix in the world, which after many hundred years burneth itself and from the ashes thereof ariseth up another, is a conceit not new or altogether popular, but of great antiquity; not only delivered by human authors but frequently expressed also by holy writers. . . . The Scripture also seems to favour it, particularly that of Job xxi. In 214 15. 214 25. 214 29. 215 3. 215 6. XOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. VI. iMida, Diuham, in nidulo meo moriar, et sicut aho dies; and Psalm xxxi. hlKaLo% 'iJcrTrep 0o?vi| 4W^^ «'/r Justus ui thoemx florcbU, as Tertullian renders it, ^„^- • -Minds it in his book before alleged , ity. that it liveth a thousand years or more ; besides that from imi>crfect 'observations and rarity of appearance, no con- . , J)c made, there may be probably a mistake m the com- wif. /V^«,Wc».rmi^>/^^w/^«.bk.iii.cap.xii. Cp. Dekker, l'\,Hrt fiirda of Noah's Ark, Non-Dramatic Works, V, 8S f. Huth Library. . 215 IT. incautious beards. " Le satyre, dit une ancienne fable, voulut baiser et embrasser le feu, la premiere fois qu'il le vit ; mais |>r. ■ lui cria : ' Satyre, tu pleureras la barbe de ton menton, can. : juandon ytouche.'" "^oxx^s^TiM, Discours sur Us Sciences ft Us Arts, ii. n. 215 a: Phoenix Death-Birth. See 215 i-2, n. 2K» 7 more in sorrow. A countenance more III sormw than in anger. Hamlet, i 2. 216 H. Doctor utriusque Juris. Doctor of both Laws, LL.D. Sec 5 «. n. 2K» la. gukguk. .See 12 c, n. 2K> *i-,». rosy-fingered. /!»o5o5dKri/Xos, Homeric epithet for the I>awn. 216 V.M. gold- vapour. Because the alchemist sought for a sub- stance called the Philosopher's Stone that would turn base metals into gold. 216 T>. Shall Courtesy be done. '• Why should politeness be peculiar to the rich and well-born ? Is not every man alive, and is not every man venerable to every other ? ' There is but one temple in the universe,' says Novalis, 'and that is the body of man.'" i ./our., .Sept. 7, 1830 ; cp. C. E. L., II, 88. 217 Ii. There is but one Temple. " Es giebt nur Einen Tem- pcl in der Welt, und das ist der menschliche Korper. Nichts ist hciligcr als diese hohe (lestalt. Das lUicken vor Menschen ist eine lluldigung dieser Offenbarung im Fleisch. Man beriihrt den Him- mcl. wenn man einen Menschenleib betastet." N'or'alis Schriften, \\, 126. Berlin. i8j6. "Friend Novalis, the devoutest heart I knew, and of purest depth, has not scrupled to call man what the Divine Man is called in Scripture, a ' Revelation in the Flesh.' " Bk. Ill, Cap. VI.] OLD CLOTHES. ^75 Essays, Goethe's Works, III, 161 ; z^. Essays, Novalis, II, 118. The idea is Biblical ; see i Cor. iii. 16, 17. 217 22. Johnson only bowed. 1 find that on one occasion Johnson's bow to an archbishop made a great impression (see Autobiography of Mrs. Piozzi, I, 21 f., Lond., 1861, and Boswell, sub ann., 1781), but no notice of such a habit as here mentioned. See, however. The Virghiians, 1, xxvi. p. 247 f. Lond., 1869. 217 33. reverence to those Shells. The idea is Richter's, ampli- fied. " For him a garment was a sort of hollow half-man, to whom only the nobler parts and first principles were wanting : he honoured the wrappages and hulls of our interior, not as an Elegant or a Critic of Beauty, but because it was not possible for him to despise aught which he saw others honouring." Quinius Eixlein, C-Trans., II, 104. 218 5. straddling animal. See 50 26, n. 218 16. Pagoda is not less sacred. " Fixlein . . . courteously took off his hat before the empty windows of the Castle; houses of quality were to him like persons of quality, as in India the Pagoda at once represents the temple and the god." C.-Trans., Qiiintiis Fixlein, II, 108. 218 21. Toomtabard. See below, 1. 23, and C. E. L., II, 89. 219 6. monstrous tuberosity. " It is like the heart of all the universe, and the flood of human effort rolls out of it and into it with a violence that almost appals one's very sense. O that our father saw Holborn in a fog ! with the black vapour brooding over it absolutely like fluid ink ; and coaches and wains and sheep and oxen and wild people rushing on with bellowings and shrieks and thundering din as if the earth in general were gone distracted ! Then there are stately streets and squares and calm green recesses, into which nothing of this abomination is permitted to enter. No won- der Cobbett calls the place a Wen. It is a monstrous Wen." Letter of Carlyle, quoted by Garnett, Life, p. yj. Lond., 1887. Cp. E. Lett., 311 f. 219 9. Spartan broth. T'^m'^s m^^"?- See Langhorne's Plutanh, p. 35. N. Y., 1864. 219 12. Monmouth Street. "Noted throughout the entire XVIII century for the sale of second-hand clothes, and several of the shops continue to be occupied by Jew dealers in left-off apparel.' London, Past and Presejit, II, 554. Thames street gives cheeses, Covent Garden, fruits, Moorfield, old books, and Monmouth street, old suits. XOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. VI. Sanhedrim. The Jewish national council. 219 17. the Prison. " The Prison called Life." In Fraser. i' 1.1. — he cast him forth, And shut him in a prison called Life. From Werner's drama. 77i€ Templars of Cyprus, quoted by Carlyle, * •• '. I. I r 5. A. Angel of Doom. See Rev. xi. 15, 18. iV) -ti. like the Pope. "Ti.vra. A cylindrical head-dress pointed at the lop and surrounded with three crowns, which the Toim: wears a.s a symbol of sovereignty." Catholic Dictionary, For the three hats, see KounUabout Papers, " Autour de mon chapeau," the initial. " I have seen him (says my author) take three old high- CTowncd hats, and clap them all on his head three story high." TaU of a Tub, sect. iv. " Perhaps many of Carlyle's readers may never have seen the innumerable grey-bearded Jews . . . who once perambulated the streets of London, with their unceasing ' Ou' Clo' ' ; and with per- haps a couple of black calico bags thrown over their shoulders, con- taining old clothes of every kind ; and with two or three hats slung or stuck anywhere about them for convenience of carriage. Hats were madt: of beaver-skin in those days, and were specially prized by that symbolic fraternity, now to be seen and heard no more. Field Ijme, also, with its long fluttering rows of silk handkerchiefs (the prizes of successful pocket-picking), where victims sometimes pur- chased, on cheap terms, handkerchiefs they had lost over night, — Held I.ane also has been swept from existence by the new times ; but both it. and what were called the ' Ou' Clo' men,' were once familiar enough to the inhabitants of London." Larkin, Carlyle and the Open Secret of /lis Life, 48. Lond., 1 886. 219 28. purify. See etymology of Purgatory. 220 I. Field Lane. See 219 22, n. 220 5 Dionysius' Ear. Greek tyrant of Syracuse, a.u.c. 364- 367 " He made a subterraneous cave in a rock, still extant, in the form of a human ear. which measured So feet in height and 250 in length. It was called the ear of Dionysius. The sounds of this sutiterraneous cave were all naturally directed to one common tympa- num which had a communication with an adjoining room where Dionysius spent the greatest part of his time to hear whatever was said by those whom hLs suspicion and cruelty had confined in the apartments above " Pcmprihe. Bk. Ill, Cap. VII.] ORGANIC FILAMENTS. ^^y 220 7. Mirza's Hill. See The Spectator, No. 159. 220 10. beast-godhood. " What indeed is man's life generally but a kind of beast-godhood ; the god in us triumphing more and more over the beast ; striving more and more to subdue it under his feet .'' " Essays, BostveWs Johnson, III, 84. 220 14. ' Devotion.' See 219 3i. 220 16. money-changers. See Matt. xxi. 12. • 220 24. fine frenzy. The poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven. Midsummer Night'' s Dream, v. i. 220 24. * pacing and repacing.' See 219 32. 220 25. Delphic avenue. Carlyle is apparently thinking of Dodona. " This Fatist is a mystic Oracle for the mind ; a Dodona grove, where the oaks and fountains prophesy to us of our destiny, and murmur unearthly secrets." Essays, Goethe'' s Helena, I, 168. 220 26. Whispering-gallery. There is such a gallery in St. Paul's, London. Cp. 220 2, n. 220 27. ' Ghosts of Life.' See 219 27. 220 29. the grass grow. German proverb, rather satirical. Man riihmet, Ihr waret der pfissigste Mann, Ihr hbrtet das Graschen fast wachsen, sagt man. Burger, Der Kaiser und der Abt. 221 10. ' ink-sea.' See 219 8 and 219 6, n. 221 12. Egg of Eros. First of all was Chaos, one confused heap : Darkness enwrapt the disagreeing deep ; In a mixt crowd the jumbling elements were, Nor earth, nor air, nor heaven did appear ; Till on the horrid vast abyss of things. Teeming night spreading o'er her coal black wings, Laid the first egg ; whence, after time's due course, Issued forth Love (the world's prolific source") Glistening with golden wings ; which fluttering o'er Dark Chaos, gendered all the numerous store Of animals and gods, Aristophanes, Birds, 694 ff. ; quoted by Cudworth, Intellectual System, I, 174. Lond., 1845. ^P- ^^■■' 40i- 222 8. two centuries. See 221 n. 222 13. Thy very Hatred. " If the doing of right depends on the receiving of it; if our fellow-men, in this world, are not persons, but mere things, that for services bestowed will return services. NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. VII. c> that Will manufacture calico, if we put in coal and -:.cn dou!)tless. the calico ceasing, our coals and water may juiio rationally cease ; the questioner threatening to injure us for the truth. TTc may rationally tell him lies. But if, on the other hand, our fdlowman is no steam-engine, but a man ; united with us, and with all men, and with the Maker of all men, in sacred, mysterious, indJsHoIuhle bands, in an All-embracing Love, that encircles alike the Mrraph and the glow-worm, then will our duties to him rest quite on another basis than this very humble one of quid pro qtioP Essays, I'vitairf, 11, 2,:^. '* Hatred itself is but an inverse love. The philosopher's wife complained to the philosopher that certain two- IcKgcd animals without feathers spake evil of him, spitefully criticised his goings out and comings in ; wherein she, too, failed not of her share : ' I-ight of my life,' answered the philosopher, 'it is their love of us, unknown to themselves, and taking a foolish shape ; thank them for it, and do thou love them more wisely. Were we mere 8t. lies working here under this roof-tree, they would scorn to 8j,. ~ once in a twelvemonth.' " Essays, Goethe's Works, III, 160. 222 'jj. largest imaginable Glass-bell. A hint of Goethe's expanded. " I at once perceived it to be only as a glass bell, which shut me up in the exhausted airless space : One bold stroke to break the bell in pieces and thou art delivered ! " Carlyle, Meister's Af>f*rentti(shtp, I, 305. Lond., 186S. " If Mechanism, like some glass bell, encircles and imprisons us ; if a soul looks forth on a fair heavenly country which it cannot reach, and pines, and in its scanty atmosphere is ready to perish, — yet the bell is but of glass ; ' one bold stroke to break the bell in pieces and thou art delivered.' " Essays, Signs of the Times, II, 160. 223 II. hunting by Lake Winnipic. This is Carlyle's con- temptuous way of referring to the various quarrels of the rival fur-trading companies in north-west America; which probably affected the peltry market, though I have been unable to find any direct evidence to support the statement. See Washington Irving, Aitoria, and Martin, Castorolos^ia, cap. x. Montreal, 1892. 223 H. mathematical fact. See Newton, Principia, Lex. I/I, Car oil. //'. 223 26. Cadmus. See Herod. V, 58, 59 and notes (Rawlinson). Vdu liave the letters Cadmus gave — Think ye, he meant them for a slave ? HvRON, The Isles 0/ Greece. F.iuvt of Mentz. See 34 26, n. Bk. Ill, Cap. VII.] ORGANIC FILAMENTS. ^jg 111 28. MoesogOthic Ulfila. Or Wulfila, the missionary to the Gothic tribes settled in Moesia, on the Danube ; the translator of the Bible into Gothic. The statement is incorrect, and rests on erroneous philology. At this time Gothic was supposed to be the language from which the other Teutonic dialects were derived. 223 30. Tubalcain. See 156 i, n. 224 12. cloud of witnesses. See Heb. xii. i. 224 13. Communion of Saints. The idea is Goethean " The third in fine, teaches an inspired Communion of Saints, that is, of men in the highest degree good and wise." Carlyle, Meister's Travels, cap. x. 224 25. Newton. For Carlyle's study of Newton, E. Lett., 31, 35' 51- 224 26. Kepler. ^Q.Q.^x&\\^i&x, Martyrs of Science. Tond., 1841. 224 33. Pope's Bull. On Dec. 10, 1520, Luther burnt publicly at the eastern gate of Wittenberg the bull by which he was excom- municated. It was common to sentence obnoxious works to be burnt by the hangman. See D'Aubigne, bk. vi. ch. x., and Heroes attd Hcro-Worship, 123. Lond., 1874. 225 8. spheral swan-song. See Tennyson, The Dying Swan. There 's not the smallest orb which thou beholdest But in his motion like an angel sings. Merchant of Venice, v. i. 225 15. Remark, not without surprise. "Earl (Jarl-Yirl), Count, Duke, Knight, etc., are all titles derived from fighting ; the honour-titles of a future time will derive themselves from knowing and v^QW-doing.'' C.-Joiir., Feb. 7, 183T; see C. E. L., II, 98. 225 26. means Ken-ning. This etymology is no longer held. From O. E. cynn, race, and ing, the patronymic ending, meaning "a man of (noble) race." Kluge. 225 30. by divine right, " Kings do reign by divine right, or not at all. The King that were God-appointed, would be an emblem of God and could demajid all obedience from us. But where is that man? The Best Man, could we find him, were he." C.-Jour., Feb. 7, 1831 ; cp. C. E. L., 98. 225 33. King Popinjay. See Old Mortality, p. 25 f. and n. Edin., 1876. 226 14. Dead and of the Unborn. Compare, Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be bom, With nowhere yet to rest my head, Like these on earth I wait forlorn. Arnold, Stanzas from the Gratide Chartreuse. o NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. VII. 380 227 13. when you have. - Will* I cjm sec tumbled down, wails I see also a-building, Hef« Mt pri»oner8. there likewise do prisoners sit : It the world then itself a huge prison ? Free only the madman, Hi» cJuins knitting up still into some graceful festoon ? " Essays, Goethe's Works, iii. 213. From Goethe. ll'fiss.ii:uiii;cti lies Bakis, 13. 227 li. Peace Society. Founded in London in 18 16 by the Society of Friends after the long Napoleonic wars. One great rcAult which it has achieved is the establishment of international arbitration. 227 «. ' organic filaments.' See 111 8. 227 83. ' Hero- Worship.' See 228 I2 ff. and Carlyle's Heroes and Htro ■ \\\^i shtp. /<;j./;//. 228 li. Hero-worship. See 227 23, n. 22S «. Paris and Voltaire. " The visit to Paris was perhaps a falMtuation <.f this prophecy for a moment. In 1778, pelding either to the solicitations of his niece, or to a momentary desire to enjoy the triumph of his renown at its centre, he returned to the great city .which he had not seen for nearly thirty years. His reception has been described over and over again. It is one of the historic events of the century. No great captain, returning from a prolonged campaign of difficulty and hazard, crownied by most glori- ous %'ictory, ever received a more splendid and far-resounding greet- ing. It was the last great commotion in Paris under the old regime." John .Morley. I'oltaire, 363 ; cp. Essays, Voltaire, II, 45-52. 228 87. laid their hair. " But if a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her." i tor. xi. i :;. 22s 31. in the dry tree. Intentional variation of Luke xxiii. 31. 229 9. Tirtue could come out. See 195 8, n. 229 15. There is no Church. See 39 11, n. 229 30. Said I not. See 221 20 ff. 229 34. ravelled sleeve. Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care. Macbeth, ii. 2. 230 7-15. Prophet . . . Goethe. See 39 ii, n. and Essays, Dfotk of Goethe, 111,145-1 55. 2.K) 17. Where there is no ministering Priest. Prov. xxLx. 18, adapted. •• It Ls dreadful to live without vision. When there is no light the people perish." Journal, C. E. L., II, 80. 230 ?o Communion of Saints. See 224 13, n. Bk. Ill, Cap. VIII.] A^^ TURAL SUPERNA TURALISM. 38 1 230 24. Miserere. The 50th Psalm in the Vulgate begins with the words miserere met. It is one of the Penitentials, and is em- bodied in various offices of the church. 230 30. Morning Stars sing. Job xxxviii. 7, adapted. 231 1. Natural Supernaturalism. In some respects this is the most important chapter in Sartor. "July 21 (1832). A strange feeling of supernaturalism, of ' the fearfulness and wonderfulness ' of life, haunts me and grows upon me." Journal, C. E. Z., II, 293. 231 6. ' Cloth-webs and Cob-webs.' See 59 21. 231 10. Phantasms, Time and Space. " Perhaps, indeed, he is metaphysician enough to know that Time and Space are but quiddities, not entities ; forms of the human soul. Laws of Thought, which to us appear independent existences, but, out of our brain, have no existence whatever : in which case the whole nodus may be more of a logical cobweb than any material perplexity. Let us see how he unravels or cuts it." Essays, Goethe'' s Heletia, I, 172 f. ; cp. 48 14 n. 231 16. Holy of Holies. See 90 1, n. 231 19. promised land. See Deut. xix. 8, xxvii. 3. 231 21. ' Courage, then ! ' Diogenes made this remark at least twice, according to Diogenes Laertius. Once, when a tedious lec- ture was near its close, he said, "Courage, friends ! I see land"; and when he saw a boy throwing stones at a gallows, " Courage ! you will attain your object." Vit. Pkilos., vi. 232 2. King of Siam. " The Indian prince who refused to believe the first relations concerning the effects of frost, reasoned justly." Hume, Inquiry Concerning the Htmian Understanding, sect. X. Of Miracles. Cp. Talisi7ia7i, cap. ii. 232 7. Open sesame ! The charm used to open the cavern in the story of AH B aba or the Forty Thieves in " The Arabian Nights." 232 13. rising . . . from the dead. Carlyle seems here to be combating Hume. "When anyone tells me that he "saw a dead man restored to life, I immediately consider with myself, etc., etc. Inquiry Concerning the Human Understanding, x. Of Miracles. " I have seen no men ri e from the dead ; I have seen some thou- sands rise from nothing.'''' Jotcrnal, C E. L., II, 86. 232 19. Iron swim. See 2 Kings vi. 6. 232 29. without variableness. From James i. 17; incorrectly quoted. 233 8. Did the Maker. This is the argument at the close of Job. See cap. xxxviii. 4-18. a XOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. VIII. ^,>i i:,. without bottom. This is a phrase which occurs in Scouish prayers. I have often heard the love of God compared to •an ocean without a bottom and without a shore.' "T :r Laplace's Book. See 1 16, n. Herschel's Fifteen-thousand Suns. Carlyle refers to Ihc division of the heavens into squares, an astronom.ical ' minute ' in fi/e. for the purpose of computing the number of stars. 2.H \. accident. See 2 30, n. 1\\ \\. his Creek. "World incidents, too, roll forth their bil- M the rcmotot creek, and alter the current there." Essays, IfWJts. III. I So. 2J4 ifi. whose Author. " A city which hith foundations, whose builder and m.ikcr i> (iod." Heb. xi. lo. 234 «:«. here a line. Isa. xxviii. lo, adapted. 234 ST. some Letters. Cp. 31 18 f. 234 :m. Custom. 'Ihus conscience does make cowards of us all ; Hamlet, iii. i. V>^ 1\. Am I to view. For same thought cp. 50 7-9. 2.V» 9. Luther's Picture. " In the room of the Wartburg, where he Mt translating the liible, they still show you a black spot on the wall ; the strange memorial of one of these conflicts. Luther sat translating one of the Psalms ; he was worn-down with long labour, with sickness, abstinence from food : there rose before him some hideous indefinable Image, which he took for the Evil One to forbid his work. I.uther started up, with fiend-defiance ; flung his inkstand at the spectre and it disappeared ! " Carlyle, Heroes and Hero- Worship, p. 1^9. Lond., 1874. Cp. D'Aubigne, bk. ix. cap. v. 2.V> i- Space and Time. Cp. 231 10, n. 236 27. Fortunatus. See 141 18, n. 1S1 Vh Paul and Seneca. They were contemporaries, and there is a spurious set of letters which they are supposed to have 5nt«' ■ ' Seneca was the tutor of Nero and was murdered by l"** I 6; A.i>. He wrote various dramas and philosophical treatises 238 6. the real Being. All we Ivavc willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall exist ; Not its semblance, but itself ; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has roiil- forth, but each survives for the melodist, When eteniity affirms the conception of an hour. Browning, Abt Vogler. Bk. in, Cap. VIII.J NATURAL SUPERNATURALISM. 383 238 15. (not imaginings), ^r^^^r and ed. prin. 238 24. were it not miraculous. " Miracle .? what is a miracle .? Can there be a thing more miraculous than any other thing .? I myself am a standing wonder. It is the inspiration of the Almighty that giveth us understanding." Journal, C. E. L., II, 82. 239 3. Time-annihilating Hat. See 236 27. 239 10. Orpheus or Amphion. Dictus et Amphion, Thebanae conditor urbis, Saxa movere sono testudinis, et prece blanda Ducere quo vellet. Horace, Ars Poetica, 394-6. )239 34. stroke . . . transmitted. Allusion to an experiment in physics which illustrates the transmission of energy from body to body. A number of spheres hang from strings at rest. If one be drawn away and allowed to impinge on the second, the middle spheres remain at rest, while the last one springs away. 240 3. Time-annihilating Hat. See 239 3. 240 8. City of God. Reference to S. Augustine, De Civitate Dei? 240 15. The English Johnson. " Churchill in his poem entitled ' The Ghost,' availed himself of the absurd credulity imputed to Johnson and drew a caricature of him under the name of ' Pomposo,' representing him as one of the believers in the story of a Ghost in Cock-lane, which, in the year 1762, had gained very general credit in London." BostvclPs Johnson, sub ann., 1763. See also ibid., note, for full account. 240 27. Are we not Spirits. Cp. 241 I8, n. 241 1. squeak and gibber. Carlyle spelt it ' jibber.' In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets. Hamlet, i. i. 241 4. Dance of the Dead. See Holbein s Dance oj Death, by F. Douce, Lond., 1890, and Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies, Lecture i. end. 241 5. scent of the morning-air. See Hamlet, I, v. 58 ; cp. Rapp' ! Rapp' ! Mich diinkt, der Hahn schon ruft, Bald wird der Sand verrinnen. Rapp'! Rapp'! Ich wittre Morgenluft — Burger, Lenore. Carlyle would know Scott's translation, " I smell the morning air." yOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. VIII. >41 7. Alexander of Macedon. The Great (356-323 b.c). He dcJcaled Uariu-s at these two battles. For Arbela, see Creasy 's FtftftH Dtnshe Battles of the World. 241 la- Spectre-hunt. See 144 7, n. 241 IH. it is mysterious. " What am I but a sort of ghost? Men riic a.-; apparitions from the bosom of the night, and after grinning, squeaking, gibbering some space, return thither. The earth ihey stand on i^ bottomless ; the vault of their sky is infini- tude ; the \\Wtime is encompassed with eternity. O wonder ! And they buy cattle or seats in Parliament, and drink coarser or finer fermented liquors, as if all this were a city that had foundations." Journal, C E. L., II. 87. 241 31. beyond plummet's sounding. And deeper than did ever plummet sound I '11 drown my book. Tempest, v. i, 242 16. haste stormfully. Our life was but a battle and a march, And. like the wind's blast, never resting, homeless, Wc storm'd across the war-convulsed Earth. Schiller, IValleiisteins Tod,2LCX\\\. sc. 15. "Kin ruheloser Marsch war unser Leben," quoted by Carlyle, Z?/^ 0/ Schiller, p. 113. Lend., 1S74. 242 17. Earth's mountains. '• We remove mountains and make sea* our smooth highway ; nothing can resist us. W^e war with rude Nature ; and by our resistless engines, come off always victori- ous, and loaded with spoils." Essays, Signs of the Times, II, 131. " I think I have got rid of materialism. Matter no longer seems to me so ancient, so unsubduable, so certain and palpable as mind. / am mind ; whether matter or not I know not, and care not." fi^urnal, C. E. L., II. 82. '^' " from God. Cp. 24 23. Du kamst, du giengst mit leiser Spur, Kin fliicht'ger Gast im Erdenland ; Woher? Wohin ? Wir wissen nur : Aus Gottes Hand, in Gottes Hand. \3w\-K^\i, Aitf den Tod eines Kittdes. " M.in issues from eternity ; walks in a ' Time Element ' encom- passed by eternity, and again in eternity disappears. Fearful and rful I This only we know, that God is above it, that God ' '^' -"^"^ rules it for good." Letter to f. Carlvle, C. E. Z., II, Bk. Ill, Cap. IX.] CIRCUMSPECTIVE. . 385 242 26. We are such stuff. Tempest, iv. i. 242 28. In his Liberty, Equality, Fraternity (p. 299, N. Y., 1873), Stephen inserts this passage (from 241 18 to the end of the chapter) with these comments. " I have quoted the passage which forms, so to speak, the last word on this subject of the great logician of our age. I will quote, in order to give form to what I have been trying to say, a passage which is perhaps the most memorable utterance of its greatest poet. The poetry seems to me to go far deeper into the .heart of the matter than the logic." Ih., p. 298. " I know of no statement which puts in so intense and impressive a form the belief which appears to me to lie at the very root of all morals whatever — the belief, that is, that I am one ; that my organs are not I ; that my happiness and their well-being are different and may be inconsistent with each other ; that pains and pleasures differ in kind as well as in degree ; that the class of pleasures and pains which arise from virtue and vice respectively cannot be measured against those, say of health and disease, inasmuch as they affect different subjects or affect the same subjects in a totally different manner." lb., p. 300 ; cp. Obiter Dicta, p. 45. Lond., 1887. 243 12. through a glass, i Cor. xiii. 12. 243 15. Earth-Spirit's speech. See 48 23 and n. 243 20. And like the baseless. See 242 26, n. 243 28. Palingenesia. See 197 5 and bk. iii. cap. v. 244 7. as was said. See 185 I6 ff. 245 4. British Reader. See 270 30-34. 245 11. Horn-gate. Sunt geminae Somni portae quarum altera fertur Cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris. y£"«. vi. 893 f. 245 13. Pierre-Pertuis, petra pertusa, a natural opening in the rock forty feet high, between Tavannes and Sancboz, in the Bernese Alps. It was the boundary of old Helvetia. 245 26. Magna. Charta. " Sir Robert Cotton, one day at his tailor's, discovered (what must have been the antiquary's astonish- ment !) that the man held in his hand, ready to cut up for measures — the original Magna Charta, with all its appendages of seals and signatures." D'lsraeli, Curiosities of Literature, I, 34. Lond., 1817. 246 1. Codification. In 1832, Bentham was still alive, "codify- ing like any dragon," to use his own phrase. Carlyle is sincere in putting his own work above that of the Benthamists. 386 NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. X. IM^ iJ. Palingenesie. See 197 5. 246 21. 'architectural ideas.' See 30 17. 246 33. live, move. See 2 28, n. 246 34. Dandies. See 51 2:;, n. 247 i«. 'Divine Idea of Cloth.' See 189 28, n. 248 I Mistress' eyebrow. And then the lover Sighing like a furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. As Yo7i Like It, ii. 7. 248 2. Clotha. Parody on the first line of the ^^neid, " Arma \irumque cano," etc. — Macaronic verses. A recondite pun. Maca- roni was a name applied to English fops about 1775 (see 51 23, n.). The verse bearing this name is "a kind of burlesque composition in which the vernacular words of one or more modern languages are intermixed with genuine Latin words and with hybrids formed by I.atin terminations to oth2r roots." Carlyle's quotation, 1. 2, is an example of this. See also the chorus of doctors at the close of Lt Malade imaginaire and BoswelVs Johnsofi, III, 253 and n. Oxon., 1826. 248 23. Siamese Twins. The two boys joined together at the breast were exhibited in London before 1S30, and Lytton wrote a satire with this title. 248 24. wonderful wonder. Burlesque of showman's language. Swift used it as the title of one of his squibs. See Works, II, 421. London, 1S70 ; also for variant, ib., p. 421 ; cp. 194 16. 248 31. it skills not. Matters not; a Shaksperian word. See 7W//M Night, V. I; Taming 0/ the Shrew, iii. 2 ; 2 Henry VI., iii. i. 248 39. passes by. Luke x. 32, adapted. 248 34. like that of Chivalry. "But the age of chivalry is gone." Burke, Reflections on the French Revolution. Works, II, 348. Lond., iS;!). 2>0 i.'i. Manicheism. The heresy of Mani or Manes, the Per- sian. •• In Manicheism we find the aim to be perfecrion, the utmost povxihle estrangement from all that pertains to the worid." Neander, General History of the Christian Religion and Church, ii. 158. Ix>nd. 1851 (Bohn); see ib., pp. 157-195, and Mohler, Kirchen- getfhtiku, \, 316. for accounts of Manicheism — Gnostic shape. " Christian heretioi so called, it being a name almost all the ancient heretics affected to take, to express that new knowledge and extraor. dinary light to which they made pretensions; the word gftostic Bk. Ill, Cap. X.] THE DAMjDIACAL BODY. 387 signifying a learned or enlightened person." Howard's N'ew Royal Cyclopaedia ; article G^tostic. 250 21. Athos Monks. See Gibbon, Decline and Fall, vol. VIII. cap. Ixiii, p. 43; Paris, 1840, for an interesting account of this practice. 250 25. Zerdusht. Zarathrushtra pronounced by the Greeks, Zoroaster. — Quangfoutchee. Usually spelled Confucius, the Chi- nese sage. 250 29. Ahrimanism. Ahriman is the principle of evil and darkness ; continually at vi-ar with Ormuzd, the principle of good and light, in the old Persian religion. " Before heaven or earth existed, the great god Zervan prayed a thousand years, and spake : * Were I perchance to obtain a son, Vormist (Ormuzd), who will create heaven and earth "i ' and he begat two in his body, one by virtue of his prayer, the other because he said perchance. The first was Ahriman, the son of doubt, the principle which makes every- thing a question." Neander, General History of the Christian Religion and Church, II, 171, n. Lond., 1851 (Bohn). 251 5. Lingua-franca. Play on words. In ridicule of the rage for sprinkling French terms through the English writings of the day. See Bulwer's novels. It means literally 'the Frank language,' and is a mixture of Italian with Arabic, Greek, etc., in use among the peoples about the Mediterranean. 251 6. Nazarene. Carlyle's genius has not kept him from falling into the common error of confusing Nazarite, a Jew under certain vows (see Numb. ii. 2 ff.), and Nazarene, a citizen of Nazareth. 251 7. unspotted. James i. 27, adapted. 251 11. Almack's. Or Willis's, a fashionable suite of assembly rooms in King street, St. James's ; closed in 1890. The word is sometimes supposed, but incorrectly, to be a transposition of McAll, the name of the first keeper. It was here that Carlyle began his course of six lectures on German literature, on May i, 1837. 251 31. scrannel-piping. And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw. Lycidas, 123 f. 252 6. Fire-balls. Referring to the unsuccessful attempt of the emperor Julian to rebuild the Temple at Jerusalem. See Milman's Gibbon, vol. Ill, cap. xxiii. p. 114 and n. Paris, 1840. ^e XOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. X. .>>-. Mohamedan reverence. - It is the custom of the Mo- halnctans. if thcv see any printed or written paper on the ground, to take it up and lay it aside carefully, as not knowing but it may con- tain some piece of their Alcoran." Spectator y No. 85. l>,l M. not without asperity. See 258 12, n. 252 31 Pelham, "or the Adventures of a Gentleman," 1827, among the earliest of the first Lord Lytton's novels. The tone may be inferred from the extract in the note 253 li. "Pelham the puppy," Calverley calls the hero. " Dandy literature and superfine •ies are tokens and causes of a degenerate art and an emas- . luorality; and among offenders in this way none has sinned more, or U of higher mark for a gibbet than the author of My Noveir Geo. Hrimley, Essays, p. 2S0. Lond., 1882. 253 8. Confession of Faith. The extended statement of belief held by the Church of Scotland. — Whole Duty. See 177 n, n. 253 11. Seven distinct Articles. Cariyle does not invent or exaggerate, as the following extract will testify. Unfortunately it docs not appear in the later expurgated editions of the novel. •• .\nd here, as I am wearied of speaking of tailors, let us reflect a little upon their works. In the first place, I deem it the supreme excellence of coats, not to be too well made ; they should have noth- ing of the triangle about them ; at the same time, wrinkles behind should be carefully avoided ; the coat should fit exactly, though without effort ; I hold it as a decisive opinion, that this can never be the case where any padding, (beyond one thin sheet of buckram, placed smoothly under the shoulders, and sloping gradually away towards the chest,) is admitted. The collar is a very important point, to which too much attention cannot be given. I think I would lay down, as a general rule (of course dependent on the mode,) that It should he rather low behind, broad, short, and slightly rolled. The tail of the coat must on no account be broad or square, unless the figure l>e much too thin ; — no license of fashion can allow a man of delicate taste to adopt, and imitate the posterial luxuriance of a Hottentot. On the contrary, I would lean to the other extreme, and think myself safe in a swallow-tail. With respect to the length allotted to the waist. I can give no better rule than always to adopt that proportion granted us by nature. The gigot sleeve is an abomi- nable fa.shion ; anything tight across the wrist is ungraceful to the last degree ; moreover, such tightness does not suffer the wristband to lie smooth and unwrinkled, and has the effect of giving a large and clumsy appearance to the hand. Bk. Ill, Cap. X.] THE DANDIACAL BODY. 380 " Speaking of the hand, I would observe, that it should never be entirely ringless, but whatever ornament of that description it does wear, should be distinguished by a remarkable fastidiousness of taste. I know nothing in which the good sense of a gentleman is more finely developed than in his rings ; for my part, I carefully eschew all mourning rings, all hoops of embossed gold, all diamonds, and very precious stones, and all antiques, unless they are peculiarly fine. One may never be ashamed of a seal ring, nor of a very plain gold one, like that worn by married women ; rings should in general be simple, but singular, and bear the semblance of a gage d'amotir. One should never be supposed to buy a ring, unless it is a seal one. '• Pardon this digression. One word now for the waistcoat ; this, though apparently the least observable article in dress, is one which influences the whole appearance more than any one not profoundly versed in the habilatory art would suppose. Besides, it is the only main portion of our attire in which we have full opportunity for the display of a graceful and well-cultivated taste. Of an evening, I am by no means averse to a very rich and ornate species of vest ; but the extremest caution is necessary in the selection of the spot, the stripe, or the sprig, which forms the principal decoration — nothing tawdry — nothing common must be permitted ; if you wear a fine waistcoat, and see another person with one resembling it, forthwith bestow it upon your valet. A white waistcoat with a black coat and trowsers, and a small chain of dead gold, only partially seen, is never within the bann of the learned in such matters ; but beware, oh, beware of your linen, your neckcloth, your collar, your frill, on the day in which you are tempted to the decent perpetration of a white waistcoat ! All things depend upon their arrangement ; in a black waistcoat, the sins of a tie, or the soils of a shirt-bosom, escape detection ; with a white one, there is no hope. If, therefore, you are hurried in your toilet, or in a misanthropic humour at the moment of settling your cravat, let no inducement suffer you to wear a vesture which, were all else suitable, would be the most unex- ceptionable you could assume. " Times, by the bye, are greatly changed since Brummell interdicted white waistcoats of a morning. I do not know whether, during the heat of the season, you could induct yourself in a more gentle and courtly garment. The dress waistcoat should generally possess a rolling and open form, giving the fullest opening for the display of the shirt, which cannot be too curiously fine ; if a frill is exquisitely washed, it is the most polished form in which your bosom appur- NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. X. ui.^...ci should be moulded ; if not — if, indeed, your own valet, or your mistress, does not superintend their lavations, I would advise a simple plait of the plainest fashion. •• With regard to the trowsers, be sure that you have them exceed- ingly tight across the hips ; if you are well made, you may then leave their further disposition to Providence, until they reach the ankle. There you must pause, and consider well whether you will have theni short, so as to develope the fineness of the bas de sole, or whether you will continue them so as to kiss your very shoe tie ; in the latter form, which is indisputably the most graceful, you must be especially careful that they flow down, as it were, in an easy and loose (but, above all, not baggy) fall, and that the shoe-strings are arranged in the dernier fafon of a bow and end. Of a morning, the trowsers cannot be too long or too easy, so that they avoid every outre and singular excess." Pelham,\o\. II, cap. vii. pp. 63-67, 2d ed. 254 1:1. Hallanshakers. Sturdy beggars. Jamieson. 254 21. Ribbonmen. This secret society originated in 1808. It was similar in organization and hostile to the Orangemen. — Peep- o'-Day Boys. A Protestant secret society which committed their outrages at dawn. Their purpose was to drive the Catholics from their farms *' to hell or Connaught." Froude, English in Ireland, II. 131. Lond., 1S87. 254 5W. Rockites. Intimidating letters to obnoxious persons were often signed ' Captain Rock.' Cp. Moore, Alemoirs of Captain A'ock. Lond., 1S24. 255 10. Nazarene. See 251 6, n. 255 ly it did. " It seemed indescribable." Fraser.zxidied. prin. 255 3t2. University-cap. The " flat-cap " or " mortar-board." " You should see him (Hobbes) with his flat cap on his head, as if he had covereil his portfolio with black cloth and sewed it to his calotte^ " A Journey to Kngland in 1663." Nineteenth Century. July, 1892. 255 H3. indicate a Slavonic. The race name for these peoples is Slav. 256 3. Hertha. See Tacitus, Germania, xl., where the new reading is 'Neithum, id est, Terram matrem ' ; and also Arthur Murphy, irorl:s 0/ Cornelius Tacitus, 567, n. 7. N. Y., 1852. 256 5. in private Oratories. In August, 1824, Carlyle visited the iron and coal works of Birmingham, and what he saw then ^ve him henceforth a deep interest in the working classes. For a most graphic description of these sights, see E. Lett., 312 f.; C. E. L., 1, .3S f. Bk. Ill, Cap. X.] THE DANDIACAL BODY. ,01 256 15. in wicker idols. Referring to the periodical agrarian outrages in Ireland and Caesar's notice of Druidical worship ; — " Alii inmani magnitudine simulacra habent, quorum contexta vimi- nibus membra vivis hominibus complent ; quibus succensis circum- vent! flam ma exanimantur homines." Bell. Gall., vi. i6. 256 17. Rhizophagous. " In Ethiopia above Egypt, near to the river Asa, inhabit a people call'd Rizophages, who get up the Roots of the Canes that grow in the Marishes, and first wash them very clean : Then they bruise and pound 'em with Stones till they are soft and pliant ; afterwards they lay a handful of 'em in the Sun till they are broil'd, and this is the Food they live upon all their days." Diod. Siciiliis, bk. iii. cap. ii. Trans., G. Booth. Lond., 1700. 256 21. Brahminical feeling. The Brahmins, the highest or priestly caste among the Hindus, apply the command, ' Thou shalt not kill ' universally. The first of the Five Rules runs, Kill not — for Pity's sake — and lest ye slay The meanest thing upon its upward way. Sir Edwin Arnold, Tfie Light of Asia. p. 232. Lend., 1884. See S. H. Kellogg, The Light of Asia and the Light of the World, p. 271. Lond., 1885. 256 27. Potatoes-and-Point. A popular Irish joke, not unknown in this country. At his frugal meal of potatoes, with no ' condi- ments ' but salt and hunger, the peasant will point to the flitch of bacon hanging from the rafters of his cabin, as if to bring this luxury into some remote relationship with his homely fare. The action may be regarded as a sort of wave or heave offering to appease the insatiable deity of digestion. 256 31. Potheen. Pronounced ' prtt-yeen,'' illicitly distilled whis- key. For its effects see Lever's novels, passifn. 257 9. the following sketch. " Shortly before our close at Sligo, a party of us proposed to take a ride into the country, the first fine Sunday morning, to view some adjacent spots of renowned picturesque, and return home to dinner. The weather proving favourable the ensuing Sabbath, we fulfilled our design. Having taken our fill of the beauties of Nature, we then began to think of satisfying another sense — the palate, and rode to a shebeen-house situated on one corner of a common, with the usual distinctions of a red stocking, pipe-stem, and certain characters chalked on a board, signifying to those who could read them that entertainment was to be had within for man and beast. .f.2 NOTES. [Bk. HI. Cap. X. " The furniture of this caravansera consisted of a large iron pot, two oaken tables, two benches, two chairs, and a whiskey noggin ; there was a loft above (attainable by a ladder), upon which the inmates slept ; and the space below was divided by a hurdle into two apartments, — the one for their cow and pig, the other for them- selves and guests. *• On entering the house, we discovered the family at dinner, (eleven in number) — the father sitting at the top, the mother at the bottum, and the children on each side of a large oaken board, which was scooped out in the middle, like a trough, to receive the contents of the pot of 'paratees.' Little holes were cut at equal distances to contain salt, and a bowl of milk stood on the table ; but all the luxuries of meat and beer, bread, knives, and dishes, were dispensed with. They ate as Nature dictated, and as Ood had given ; — they ;ite, and were satisfied. " The landlord was of the ordinary broad-backed, black-browed breed, with a leg like an elephant's, a face as round as the shield of Douglas and a mouth which, when open, bore the same proportion to his head that the sea does to the land. His wife was a sun- browned but well-featured woman, and his young ones (but that they had a sort of impish hilarity about them) were chubby, and bare enough for so many Cupids." John Bernard, Retrospections of the Statue, 2 vols., Lond., 1830 ; I, xi. pp. 348-350. For notice of liernard, see /Jict. jVat. Biog., s. v. 258 10. appetite of ravens. See Ps. cxlvii. 9, Job xxxviii. 41. 258 12. the Dandiacal Household. The passage in quotation marks is transcribed with a few unimportant changes from the intro- duction to Bulwer's novel. The Disowned. Fraser had a feud with Hulwer, and this extract was quoted and ridiculed in the maga2dne for June, 1830 (vol. I, No. v.) ; which Carlyle must have seen. There was also an attack on Bulwer in the April number, in an article entitled, The Dominie's Legacy. 259 4. Self-worship. See 250 25. 259 31. Manicheans. See 250 15, n. 260 2. Pot wallopers. Pot-boilers : wallop being connected with well (O.E. weallan). House-keepers or lodgers who prepare their own food ; the name of a class of voters in England before the pas- sage of the Reform Bill of 1832. See 3 11, n. " Every male inhabit- ant, whether house-keeper or lodger, who had resided six months in the borough, and had not been chargeable to any township as a pauper for twelve months, was entitled to vote." Century Diet. Bk. HI, Cap. XI.] TAILORS. 392 260 11. Buchan-Bullers. The Bullers of Buchan is the local name of a huge vertical well in the granite sea shore, six miles south of Peterhead in Aberdeenshire. It is fifty feet in diameter and one hundred in depth, and in storms the sea rushes into it with great violence through an archway in the bottom. Cp. Nodes Anibro- sianae, IV, 58, n. Edin., 1865. "They, you know, are not only always black, but always boiling, and the reason is that day and night the abysses are disturbed by the sea. The sea will not let them rest in peace — but fills them, whether they will or no, with perpetual foam — everlasting breakers — an eternal surf. In the calmest day, the lull itself is dreadful. Yet the place is not without its beauty, and all the world confesses that it is sublime." Greek Drama ; Blacktvood's Mag., 183 1, p. 389. 260 17. Electric Machines. " Wealth has accumulated itself into masses ; and Poverty, also in accumulation enough, lies impassa- bly separated from it ; opposed, uncommunicating, like forces in positive and negative poles." Essays, Characteristics, III, 25. 262 4. Pelion on Ossa. Ter sunt conati iraponere Pelio Ossam Scilicet, atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum. Georg. i. 281, 282. 262 4. Moloch. See Levit. xviii. 21, xx. 2-5, and Par. Lost, ii. 262 5. Michael of Justice. According to Edersheim, Gabriel ('the Hero of God') represents Judgment, while Michael ('who is like God') represents Mercy. See The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah, II, 751 ; 5th ed. 262 13. fractional parts. The proverb is, " Nine tailors make a man," or " Nine tailors made me a man." Cp. 263 34. 262 19. Tailor's Melancholy. " That there is a professional melancholy, if I may so express it, incident to the occupation of a tailor, is a fact which I think very few will venture to dispute. . . . I find a most remarkable passage in Burton in his chapter entitled ' Bad diet a cause of melancholy.' * Amongst herbs to be eaten (he says) I find gourds, cucumbers, melons disallowed ; but especially Cabbage. It causeth troublesome dreams, and sends up black vapours to the brain. Galen, Loc. Affect., lib. iii. cap. 6, of all herbs condemns Cabbage. And Izaak, lib. ii. cap. i, animae gravitatejn facit, it brings heaviness to the soul.' I could not omit so flattering a testimony from an author, who having no theory of his own to serve, has so unconsciously contributed to the confirmation of mine. NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. XI. "504 .^,; u .1 ihis last named vegetable has, from the earhest i wc can discover, con.stiluted almost the sole food of ihU extraordinary race of people." Lamb, On the Melancholy of Cp. i:urton, Anatomy of Melancholy, part i. sec. 2, mem. 2, , • Cabbage ' also means to steal bits of cloth. See Hotten's SliiHg Dictionary. 262 *J. Hans Sachs. A German poet (1494-1576) and Meister- singcr of Nurnbcrg. " Hans Sachs is a curious fellow; both in age and character; full of humour, reading, honesty, good nature; of the quickest observation, three hundred years old, and— a shoe- maker ; what a strange medley may we not expect ! Is his way of treating Heaven, Chri.stus, etc., like that of our old mysteries ? See the Tador unth the Flag.'' C.foiir., p. 23- I^ec , 1826. See also C.oethe, /fans Saehsens Poetische Sendung ; Longfellow, Nuremberg. The Schneider tnit detn ranter tells how a thievish tailor was fright- ened by seeing in a dream a huge banner made of the snippets of cliith he had stolen. 262 2:.. Taming of the Shrew. See act iv. sc. iii., especially I'etruchio's speech beginning " O monstrous arrogance ! " 262 '->6. Queen Elizabeth. The source of these anecdotes I have l)een unable to find. ■263 \. sartor ius. The longest muscle of the body, crossing the thigh : so called because it produces the cross-legged position a-ssumed by tailors at work. 1(\S II. Swift. " They worshipped a sort of idol, etc." Tale of a Tub. .\ definite unmistakable reference to the germ passage from which Tfufelsilrot kh's whole philosophy grew. See Introd., xx. 26.? 14. Franklin. Eripuit coelo fulmen Sceptrumque tyrannis. Motto !)y Turgot for the picture of Franklin by Duplessis. See Life and Memoirs of /''., vol. I, front., and II, p. 288. Lond., 1S18. 263 '^y. " Nay, if thou." From Goethe, Meisters Lehrjahre, II, ii; Carlyle's trans. I, 71. Lond, 1868. See Essays, I, 234; IV, 87. 264 ifj. St. Sophia. The church of the Heavenly Wisdom at Constantinople. For dt-scription see Gibbon, Decline and Fall, cap. xl. pp. 65-68. Paris, 1840. 2M i>o. Arabian Whinstone. The " veil " {kis7va) is of black brocade with a broad band of gold embroidery, consisting of texts from the Koran. The <'aaba is a four-square building in the great Bk. Ill, Cap. XII.] FAREWELL. 295 mosque at Mecca ; and in one corner is a black aerolite, before which the faithful repeat prayers. Carlyle does not seem to have distinguished between the building and the fetish-stone in its wall. See Littre, under pierre noire. 264 26. Sic itur. yEneid, ix. 641. Quoted ironically in a letter of Carlyle to his brother John, Sept. 17, 1823. C. E. L., I, 192. 265 9. Haggis. " A mess of minced lights, livers, suet, oat meal, onions and pepper inclosed in a sheep's stomach. . . . The Scotch in general are attached to this composition with a sort of national fondness." Hiimphrey Clinker, p. 248 f. Edin., 1806. For another Scotchman's feelings on the subject, consult Burns, To a Haggis, 266 26. Hannibal-like. " Fama etiam est, Hannibalem annorum ferme novem, pueriliter blandientem patri Haniilcari, ut duceretur in Hispaniam, quum, perfecto Africo bello, exercitum eo traiecturus sacrificaret, altaribus admotum, tactis sacris iureiurando adactum, se, quum primum posset, hostem fore populo Romano." Livy, xxi. I. 267 11. dashes his sponge. " You have heard, said he, with- out doubt, of that Painter famed in Story who being to paint the Foam of a Horse, and not succeeding to his Mind, threw at the Picture in Resentment a Sponge bedaubed with colours, and pro- duced a foam the most natural imaginable." Works of James Harris, I, 6 f. ; Lond., 1803. The painter was Apelles. See Dio Chrysostom., Orat., 63, p. 390 ; Paris, 1604 ; where the incident is told at length. Cp. G.-Corr., 285, where Carlyle applies the phrase to Sartor. 267 29. It is the Night. "Man has walked by the light of conflagrations, and amid the sound of falling cities ; and now there is darkness and long watching till it be morning. The voice even of the faithful can but exclaim : ' As yet struggles the twelfth hour of the Night : birds of darkness are on the wing, spectres upsoar, the dead walk, the living dream — Thou, Eternal Providence, wilt cause the day to dawn ! ' " (Richter, Hesperus, Vorrede.) Essays, Charac- teristics, in, 36. 268 7. lone watchtower. Cp. 3 14. 268 18. Watchman. See Isa. xxi. 11. 268 23. Population-Institute. See 205 14, n. 268 29. Ew. Wohlgeboren. About equivalent to "Your Honor," gi German form of respectful address in letter-writing. 269 6. Three Days. See 3 11, n. , NOTES. [Bk. Ill, Cap. XII. 269 23. Saint-Simonian. Carlyle's article, The Signs of the Timts, attracted the attention of the St. Simonian Society, and led I., his being the recipient of such a communication as this of Teufels- drockh's. See G.-Corr., 214 f., 225 ; see 269 33, n. W) a: Here also. "The Saint Simonians in Paris have again transmitted to me a large mass of their performances : Expositions of their Doctrines ; Proclamations sent forth during the famous Ihree Days ; many numbers of their weekly Journal. They seem to mc to be earnest, zealous and nowise ignorant men, but wander- ing in strange paths. I should say they have discovered and laid to heart this momentous and now almost forgotten truth, Man is still Man ; ai^d are already beginning to make false applications of it;" C.Corr., 258 ; cp. C E. Z., II, S4. 1(1) 28. Man is still Man. In Essays, Characteristics, III, 47, referring to the "younger nobler minds" of France, Carlyle says: •' Meanwhile let us rejoice rather that so much has been seen into, were it through never so diffracting media, and never so madly ' • rted ; that in all dialects, though but half -articulately, this high l>el begins to be preached: Man is still Man." See 269 27, n. 269 33. Bazard-Enfantin. Saint Simon (1760-1825) was a V lil of D'.Membert and the predecessor of Comte. His greatest w :k is the New Christianity. He insisted on the necessity of a new and positive organization of society ; and that the whole of society ought to strive towards the amelioration of the moral and physical existence of the poorest class. Bazard and E7i/antifi were his pupils. They gave a course of lectures on his doctrine in Paris, and formed there an association or family of three grades which lived out of a common purse. 270 .'M>-34. British Readers . . . invective. " ' Sartor,' when it began to appear in 'Fraser' piecemeal, met a still harder judg- ment. No one could tell what to make of it. The writer was con- sidered a literary maniac, and the unlucky editor was dreading the niin of his magazine." C. E. Z., II, 377. " Magazine Fraser writes that 'Teufelsdrockh ' e.xcites the most unqualified disapprobation — <) In bourn heurt'" lb., 41 8. " James Fraser writes me that Teufelsdrockh meets with the most unqualified disapproval ; which is all extremely prt^per. His payment arrives, which is still more proper." Lett., 382. " ' Teufelsdrockh ' beyond measure unpopu- lar ; an oldest subscriber came in to him and said, * If there is any more of that d — d stuff etc.. etc' " C E. L., II, 446. 271 .^ Yorke . . . Oliver. See 9 13, n. Bk. Ill, Cap. XII.] FAREWELL. 397 271 6-7. madness . . . punch. The Nodes Ambrosianae in Blackwood and the imitations of them in Eraser were transcribed from life, and account for the scurrilous and slovenly articles with which the early numbers of these magazines abounded ; for instance, Kit North's attack on Tennyson, and O. Yorke's letterpress for the Eraser portrait of Miss Martineau. The decanters and glasses of the various Eraser portraits, are not meaningless accessories. The article which drew down on Hugh Fraser his richly deserved flogging and caused his death was written by Maginn when he and his party were half drunk. Carlyle's contempt for the Maga, Eraser's 'dog's- meat cart of a magazine,' and the ways of London literary men, was complete and unaffected. See C. E. L., II, 90, 191, 215, 241 f., etc. 398 ADDITIONAL NOTES. xvi. 21. could not possibly have made any woman happy. This sweeping statement is left in its pristine crudity, since it has drawn from no less an authority than Professor Norton the following valu- able criticism, which is reprinted here by his permission : •* I believe that Carlyle could have made many a woman happy, supposing her to have had a magnanimous disposition and a just .1, rcciation of his nature. He had a depth of tenderness and a I I, iv ity of sympathetic expres^^ion which might have been enough to satisfy the heart of any woman. However devoted to him, and however clear-sighted she might have been, he would undoubtedly have often required of her much self-control, and tried her heart by his impatience and self-engrossment ; but I think that he would have more than made up to her for unusual trials by giving her unusual joys. "It is a hard thing to say, but it seems to me true, that a great part of Mrs. Carlyle's trial arose from finding herself unexpectedly the inferior of her husband. The flattery which had been lavished upon her by her admirers, including Carlyle himself, had led her to an overestimate of her intellectual endowments as compared with his, no less than to an overestimate of the social difference that existed iK'tween them, in disregarding which she felt she was making a sac- rifice which deserved a different return from that which Carlyle was ready to recognize as due to it. I do not underestimate the real sacrifices she made for his sake. That she had a false estimate of them is in no respect surprising ; but I think one can discern the gradual growth of disappointment and bitterness of feeling as she was compelled to recognize the superiority of her husband, not mrrely in his intellectual gifts, but in his position in the world so soon as those gifts were recognized by it. She seems to me to have betome jealous of him, not in the usual sense, but jealous of what many a wife would have l^een proud of ; and if one can believe the indications which her own letters afford even more than his, she not ADDITIONAL NOTES. 399 infrequently embittered both their lives by a display of a lack of generosity that was not at all compensated for by her sacrifices in behalf of their common household. I do not lose sight of all that she had to endure from Carlyle's temperament, from his ill health, from his selfish engrossment in his own work, or from that change which many a woman has to endure, — from the adoration of the lover to the critical attitude of the husband tired with daily work. " It is a sad story, because at the bottom of each of their hearts was, I believe, the sincerest love for each other. But my point just now is not so much to account for their unhappiness as to express my conviction that a woman of less self-regardful nature, and more fortunate in the discipline of early life, might have been made essentially happy by Carlyle." xlv. 10. set the notion. See Appendix, p. 403. The writer of the review, Alexander H. Everett, has no doubt that Sartor is " very strongly tinged throughout with the peculiar idiom of the German language." 2 10. of History. Add to Note : Part of Hegel's system is a phil- osophy of history. 7 9. business and bosoms. " I doe now publish my Essayes ; which of all my other works haue beene most Currant : For that, as it seemes, they come home, to Mens Businesse, and Bosomes." Bacon, Iiitrod. to Essays to Lord Buckingham. 8 7. to revolve them. Add to N'ote : Alexander's Feast was writ- ten after Dryden translated the yEneid. The use of the term is a Latinism. Cp. Under their grateful shade ^neas sate Revolving war's events, and various fate. ^neid, x. 235 £. Hie magnus sedet ./Eneas, secumque volutat Eventus belli varios. j^tteid, X. 159 f. 13 10. in petto. Add to Note, after " Cardinals " : It is also used of Cardinals whom the Pope intends to create, but whose name he withholds for the time being. 37 26. sheet-iron Aprons. After 256 5, in Note, add : " And through the whole, half-naked demons pouring with sweat and besmeared with soot were hurrying to and fro in their red night- caps and sheet-iron breeches, rolling or hammering or squeezing ADDITIONAL NOTES. their glowing metal as though it had been wax or dough." E. 48 i'. Garment of God. Cp. " For Nature is no longer dead, hostile Matter, but the veil and mysterious Garment of the Unse^/' Ejshys, .\\n;}Iis, II, 107. 53 -j:.. Improved-drop. "The vulgar and ungentlemanly dirty • new drop * and dog-like agony of infliction upon the sufferers of the Knglish stnlenoe." Byron, Letter to Murray, May 30, 18 17. 5S l^. Chrysostom. There can be very little doubt that Carlyle got the phrase from Tristram Shandy, vol. V, cap. i. (orig. ed.) : •• Wh.. made man, ... the miracle of Nature, as Zoroaster, in his book II«^ ♦wTfwt, called him; — the Shekinah of the Divine Presence as Chrysostom, — " 125 17. Preestablished Harmony. Add to Note : " It is true that there are, in my opinion, efforts in all substances, but these efforts are properly only in the substance itself ; and what follows in the others is only in virtue of a prcifstablished harmofty (if I may be permitted to use this word), and in no wise by a real influence, or by a trans- mission of some property or quality." Leibnitz, Opusculum, xiii. 129 l.'>. Philistine. Add to N'ote : See M. Arnold, Culture and Anarchy, cap. iii. 158 Vi. carnage . . . manure. Cp. How that red rain hath made the harvest grow ! Byron, Childe Harold, Cant. iii. xvii. 159 25. fiction of the English Smollet. "I remember," pro- ceeded this champion, " when I was a slave at Algiers, Murphy Macmorris and I happened to have some difference in the bagnio, upon which he bade me turn out. ' Arrah, for what?' said I, ' here are no weapons that a gentleman can use, and you would not be such a negro as to box like an English carman ! ' After he had puzzled himself for some time, he proposed that we should retire into a corner and funk one another with brimstone till one of us should give out. Accordingly we crammed half a dozen of tobacco pipes with sulphur, and, setting foot to foot, began to smoke, and kept a constant fire, until Macmorris dropped down." The Adventures .1/* h,,i, ,'.,,,.{ I \^utit Fathom, cap. xli. ADDITIONAL NOTES. 401 215 17. incautious beards. Add to Note : The ' fable ' is the basis of the lost ' satyric ' drama of ^schylus, Pro7tietheus. See Campbell, Guide to Greek Tragedy, 159. Lond., 1891. 219 17. the Prison. In Note, after Essays, I, 115, add : Cp. Out of this foule prisoun of this lyf ? Chaucer, KuighVs Tale, 2203. 233 15. without bottom. KMioNote: Cp. There being no end of words, nor any bound Set to conceipt, the Ocean without shore. 6". Daniel, I, 290 (Grosart's ed.), Florio's Montaigne. APPENDIX. This questionable little Book was undoubtedly written among the mountain solitudes, in 1831 ; but owing to impedi- ments natural and accidental, could not, for seven years more, appear as a Volume in England ; — and had at last to clip itself into pieces, and be content to struggle out, bit by bit, in some courageous Magazine that offered. Whereby now to certain idly curious readers, and even to myself till I make study, the insignificant but at last irritating question. What its real history and chronology are, is, if not insoluble, consider- ably involved in haze. To the first English Edition, 1838, which an American or two Americans had now opened the way for, there was slightingly prefixed under the title ' Testimonies of Authors ^^ some straggle of real documents, which, now that I find it again, sets the matter into clear hght and sequence ; — and shall here, for removal of idle stumbling-blocks and nugatory guessings from the path of every reader, be reprinted as it stood. (^Author'' s Noteoi 1868.) TESTIMONIES OF AUTHORS. I. Highest Class, Bookseller's Taster. Taster to Bookseller. — "The Author of Tetifelsdrockh is a person of talent ; his work displays here and there some felicity of thought and expression, considerable fancy and knowledge : but whether or not it would take with the public seems doubtful. For ayVw d' esprit of that kind, it is too long ; it would have suited better as an essay or article than as a volume. The Author has no great tact : his wit APPENDIX. 404 b frequently heavy; and reminds one of the German Baron who look to leaping on tables, and answered that he was learmng to be lively. Is the work a translation ? " B^kselUr to Editor.— ' \\\osv me to say that such a writer requires only a little more tact to produce a popular as well as an able work. Directly on receiving your permission, I sent your Ms. to a gentleman in the highest class of men of letters, and an accom- plished German scholar : I now enclose you his opinion, which, you nuy rely upon it, is a just one; and I have too high an opinion of your good sense to" &c.. ^z. — Ms. {penes nos), London, 17th Sep- tember, iSji.^ II. Critic of the Sun. - Fraser's Magazine exhibits the usual brilliancy, and also the " &c. " Sartor Pesartus is what old Dennis used to call ' a heap of clotted nonsense,* mixed however, here and there, with passages marked by thought and striking poetic vigour. But what does the writer mean by ' Baphometic fire-baptism'.? Why cannot he lay aside his pedantry, and write so as to make himself generally intel- ligible.' We quote by way of curiosity a sentence from the Sartor Resartus ; which may be read either backwards or forwards, for it is equally intelligible either way. Indeed, by beginning at the tail, and so working up to the head, we think the reader will stand the fairest chance of getting at its meaning : ' The fire-baptised soul, long so scathed and thunder-riven, here feels its own freedom ; which feeling is its Baphometic baptism : the citadel of its whole kingdom it has thus gained by assault, and will keep inexpugnable ; outwards from which the remaining dominions, not indeed without hard battering, will doubtless by degrees be conquered and pacifi- cated.' Here is a" — . . . — Sun A'ewspaper, ist April, 18^4. III. North-American Reviewer. ..." After a careful survey of the whole ground, our belief is that no such persons as Professor Teufelsdrockh or Counsellor Heuschrecke ever existed; that the six Paper-bags, with their China-ink inscriptions and multifarious contents, are a mere figment of the brain ; that the 'present Editor' is the only person who has every written upon the Philosophy of Clothes ; and that the Sartor Rtsartus is the only treatise that has yet appeared upon that sub- ' C. ^. Z., II, 200. APPENDIX. 40^ ject ; — in short, that the whole account of the origin of the work before us, which the supposed Editor relates with so much gravity, and of which we have given a brief abstract, is, in plain English, a hum. " Without troubling our readers at any great length with our reasons for entertaining these suspicions, we may remark, that the absence of all other information on the subject, except what is contained in the work, is itself a fact of a most significant character. The whole German press, as well as the particular one where the work purports to have been printed, seems to be under the control oi Stillschweigen and Co. — Silence and Company. If the Clothes- Philosophy and its author are making so great a sensation through- out Germany as is pretended, how happens it that the only notice we have of the fact is contained in a few numbers of a monthly Magazine published at London ? How happens it that no intelli- gence about the matter has come out directly to this country.' We pique ourselves here in New England upon knowing at least as much of what is going on in the literary way in the old Dutch Mother- land as our brethren of the fast-anchored Isle ; but thus far we have no tidings whatever of the ' extensive close-printed close-meditated volume,' which forms the subject of this pretended commentary. Again, we would respectfully inquire of the ' present Editor ' upon what part of the map of Germany are we to look for the city of Weisstiichtwo, — ' Know-not-where,' at which place the work is sup- posed to have been printed and the Author to have resided. It has been our fortune to visit several portions of the German territory, and to examine pretty carefully, at different times and for various purposes, maps of the whole ; but we have no recollection of any such place. We suspect that the city of A'7io7v-not-where might be called, with at least as much propriety, N^obody-knows-iuhere, and is to be found in the kingdom of Nowhere. Again, the village of Entepfuhl, — ' Duck-pond,' where the supposed Author of the work is said to have passed his youth, and that of Hinterschlag, where he had his education, are equally foreign to our geography. Duck- ponds enough there undoubtedly are in almost every village in Germany, as the traveller in that country knows too well to his cost, but any particular village denominated Duck-pond is to us altogether terra incognita. The names of the personages are not less singular than those of the places. Who can refrain from a smile at the yoking together of such a pair of appellatives as Diogenes Teufelsdrockh t The supposed bearer of this strange title is represented as admitting 4o6 APPENDIX. in his pretended autobiography, that ' he had searched to no purpose through all the Heralds' books in and witliout the German empire, and through all manner of Subscriber's-lists, Militia-rolls, and other Name catalogues,' but had nowhere been able to find ' the name Tcufelsdrockh, except as appended to his own person.' We can readily l>elieve this, and we doubt very much whether any Christian parent would think of condemning a son to carry through life the burden of so unpleasant a title. That of Counsellor Heuschrecke, ' Crasshopper' — though not offensive, looks much more like a piece of fancy work than a 'fair business transaction.' The same may be said of lUumine, — ' Flower Goddess' — the heroine of the fable, and so of the rest. " In short, our private opinion is, as we have remarked, that the whole story of a correspondence with Germany, a university of Nobody-knows-where, a Professor of Things in General, a Counsel- lor (Jrasshopper, a Flower-Goddess Blumine, and so forth, has alK)ut a5 much foundation in truth, as the late entertaining account of .Sir John Herschel's discoveries in the moon. Fictions of this kind are, however, not uncommon, and ought not, perhaps, to be condemned with too much severity ; but we are not sure that we can exercise the same indulgence in regard to the attempt which seems to be made to mislead the public as to the substance of the work before us, and its pretended German original. Both purport, as we have seen, to be upon the subject of Clothes, or dress. Clothes, their Origin and hiflitefice^ is the title of the supposed (icrman treatise of Professor Teufelsdrockh, and the rather odd name of Sartor Kesartus, — the Tailor Patched, — which the present Kditor has affixed to his pretended commentary, seems to look the same way. But though there is a good deal of remark throughout the work in a half-serious, half-comic style upon dress, it seems to be in reality a treatise upon the great science of Things in General, which Teufelsdrockh is supposed to have professed at the university of Nobody-knows-where. Now, without intending to adopt a too rigid standard of morals, we own that we doubt a little the propriety of offering to the public a treatise on Things in General, under the name and in the form of an Essay on Dress. For ourselves, advanced as we unfortunately are in the journey of life, far beyond the period when dress is practically a matter of interest, we have no n in saying that the real subject of the work is to us more • than the ostensible one. But this is probably not the case with the mass of reader> To the younger portion of the commu- APPENDIX. 407 nity, which constitutes everywhere the very great majority, the subject of dress is one of intense and paramount importance. An author who treats it appeals like the poet, to the young men and maidens, — virginibus puerisque, — and calls upon them by all the motives which habitually operate most strongly upon their feelings to buy his book. When, after opening their purses for this purpose, they have carried home the work in triumph, expecting to find in it some particular instruction in regard to the tying of their neckcloths, or the cut of their corsets, and meet with nothing better than a dissertation on Things in General, they will, — to use the mildest term, — not be in very good humour. If the last improvements in legislation, which we have made in this country, should have found their way to England, the author we think would stand some chance of being Lynched. Whether his object in this piece of supercherie be merely pecuniary profit, or whether he takes a malicious pleasure in quizzing the Dandies, we shall not undertake to say. In the latter part of the work, he devotes a separate chapter to this class of persons, from the tenor of which we should be disposed to conclude that he would consider any mode of divesting them of their property very much in the nature of a spoiling of the Egyptians. "The only thing about the work, tending to prove that it is what it purports to be, a commentary on a real German treatise, is the style, which is a sort of Babylonish dialect, not destitute, it is true, of richness, vigour, and at times a sort of singular felicity of expres- sion, but very strongly tinged throughout with the peculiar idiom of the German language. This quality in the style, however, may be a mere result of a great familiarity with German literature, and we cannot, therefore, look upon it as in itself decisive, still less as outweighing so much evidence of an opposite character." — North- American Review, No. 8g, October, fSjj.^ IV. New-England Editors. " The Editors have been induced, by the expressed desire of many persons, to collect the following sheets out of the ephemeral pam- phlets 2 in which they first appeared, under the conviction that they contain in themselves the assurance of a longer date. " The Editors have no expectation that this little Work will have a sudden and general popularity. They will not undertake, as there 1 See Correspotidence of Carlyle and Emerson, I, 84, 89, 94. Boston, 18S6. 2 Eraser's (London) Magazine, 1833-4. g APPENDIX. is no need, to justify the gay costume in which the Author delight> lo Cixzss hii thoughts, or the German idioms with which he has sport- ively sprinkled his pages. It is his humour to advance the gravest speculations upon the gravest topics in a quaint and burlesque style. If his masquerade offend any of his audience, to that degree that they will not hear what he has to say, it may chance to draw others to listen to his wisdom ; and what work of imagination can hope to please all ? Hut we will venture to remark that the distaste excited by these peculiarities in some readers is greatest at first, and is soon forgotten ; and that the foreign dress and aspect of the Work are quite superficial, and cover a genuine Saxon heart. We believe, no book has been published for many years, written in a more sincere style of idiomatic English, or which discovers an equal mastery over all the riches of the language. The Author makes ample amends for the occasional eccentricity of his genius, not only by frequent bursts of pure splendour, but by the wit and sense which never fail him. " But what will chiefly commend the Book to the discerning reader is the manifest design of the work, which is, a Criticism upon the Spirit of the Age — we had almost said, of the hour — in which we live; exhibiting in the most just and novel light the present aspects of Religion, Politics, Liter,ature, Arts, and Social Life. ^ I'nder all his gaiety the Writer has an earnest meaning, and dis- covers an insight into the manifold wants and tendencies of human nature, which is very rare among our popular authors. The philan- thropy and the purity of moral sentiment which inspire the work, will find their way to the heart of every lover of virtue." — Preface to Sartor Resartus : Boston, /8j6, /Sjy. Sunt, Flerunt vel Fuere. London, ^otk June, i8j8. CARLYLE'S INDEX. Action, the true end of Man, 143. 145- Actual, the, the true Ideal, 178. Adamitism, 5(. Afflictions, merciful, 174. Ambition, 93. Apprenticeships, no. Aprons, use and significance of, 2,7- Art, all true Works of, sym- bolic, 203. Baphometic Fire-baptism, 1 53, 154- Battlefield, a, 157. Battle, Life-, our, 77 ; with Folly and Sin, 112, 116. Being, the boundless Phantas- magoria of, 46. Belief and Opinion, 176. Bible of Universal History, 169, 176. Biography, meaning and uses of, 67 ; significance of biographic facts, 183. Blumine, 125 ; her environment, 126; character and relation to Teufelsdrockh, 127 ; blissful bonds rent asunder, 134; on her way to England, 140. Bolivar's Cavalry-uniform, 43. Books, influence of, 156, 180. Childhood, happy season of, 80 ; early influences and sports, 82. Christian Faith, a good Mother's simple version of the, 89; Temple of the, now in ruins, 175; Passive-half of, 176. Christian Love, 171, 174. Church-Clothes, 194 ; living and dead Churches, 195 ; the mod- ern Church and its News- paper-Pulpits, 229. Circumstances, influence of, 84. Clergy, the, with their surplices and cassock-aprons girt-on, 38, 190. Clothes, not a spontaneous growth of the human animal, but an artificial device, 2 ; an- alogy between the Costumes of the body and the Customs of the spirit, 30 ; Decoration the first purpose of Clothes, 2Z ! what Clothes have done for us, and what they threaten to do, 35, 50 ; fantastic garbs of the Middle Ages, 40 ; a sim- ple costume, 43 ; tangible and mystic influences of Clothes, 45, 53 ; animal and human Clothing contrasted, 49 ; a Court-Ceremonial minus Clothes, 54; necessity for 410 INDEX. Clothes, 56 ; transparent Clothes, 59 ; all Emblematic things are Clothes, 64,245; Genesis of the modern Clothes- rhilosopher, 72 ; Character and conditions needed, 186, 1 88 ; Cieorge Fox's suit of leather. 1S9; Church-Clothes, 194; Old-Clothes, 216 ; prac- tical inferences, 246. Codification, 60. Combination, value of, 121, 267. Commons, Hritish House of, 36. Concealment. See Secrecy. Constitution, our invaluable Hritish, 226. Conversion, 179. Courtesy, due to all men, 216. Courtier, a luckless, 43. Custom the greatest of Weav- ers. 235. iJandy, mystic significance of the, 247 ; dandy worship, 250 ; sacred books, 251 ; articles of faith, 253; a dandy household, 258 ; tragically undermined by growing Drudgery, 259. Death, nourishment even in, 96, 152. Devil, internecine war with the, 10, loS, 154, 167; cannot now so much as believe in him, 151. Dilettantes and Pedants, 61 ; patrons of Literature, 114. Diogenes, 192. Doubt can only be removed by Action, 177. See Unbelief. Drudgery contrasted with Dan- dyism, 254 ; 'Communion of Drudges ' and what may come of it, 259. Duelling, a picture of, 164. Duty, no longer a divine Mes- senger and Guide, but a false earthly Fantasm, 147, 149 ; infinite nature of, 177. Editor's first acquaintance with Teufelsdrockh and his Phi- losophy of Clothes, 5 ; efforts to make known his discovery to British readers, 6; admitted into the Teufelsdrockh watch- tower, 16, 28; first feels the pressure of his task, 44 ; his bulky Weissnichtwo Packet, 66; strenuous efforts to evolve some historic order out of such interminable docu- mentary confusion, 70; partial success, 79, 90, 141 ; mysteri- ous hints, 1S3, 213; astonish- ment and hesitation, 226 ; congratulations, 244 ; fare- well, 265. Education, influence of early, 84 ; insignificant portion depend- ing on Schools, 91 ; educa- tional Architects, 95 ; the inspired Thinker, 207. Emblems, all visible things, 64. Emigration, 209. Eternity, looking through Time, 17, 65, 203. Evil, Origin of, 172. Eyes and Spectacles, 61. Facts, engraved Hierograms, for which the fewest have the key, 184. INDEX. 411 Faith, the one thing needful, 146. Fantasy, the true Heaven-gate or Hell-gate of man, 131, 199. Fashionable Novels, 251. Fatherhood, 76. Feebleness, the true misery, 149. Fire, and vital fire, 63, 155. Force, universal presence of, 63. Fortunatus' Wishing-hat, 236, 239- Fox's, George, heavenward aspirations and earthly inde- pendence, 189. Fj'aser^s Magazine, 7, 271. Frederick the Great, symbolic glimpse of, 72. Friendship, now obsolete, 107 ; an incredible tradition, 150, 210; how it were possible, 194, 267. Futteral and his wife, 72. Future, organic filaments of the, 221. Genius, the world's treatment of, "3- German speculative Thought, 3, II, 24, 27, 49; historical researches, 32, 67. Gerund-grinding, 95, Ghost, an authentic, 240. God, the unslumbering, omni- present, eternal, 48 ; God's presence manifested to our eyes and hearts, 58 ; an ab- sentee God, 147. Goethe's inspired melody, 230. Good, growth and propagation of, 89. Great Men, 161. See Man. Gullibility, blessings of, 100. Gunpowder, use of, 34, 164. Habit, how, makes dullards of us all, 50. Half-men, 167. Happiness, the whim of, 173. Hero-worship, the corner-stone of all Society, 228. Heuschrecke and his biographic documents, 8 ; his loose, zig- zag, thin-visaged character, 21 ; unaccustomed eloquence, and interminable documentary su- perfluities, 66 ; bewildered darkness, 268. History, all-inweaving tissue of, 18 ; by what strange chances do we live in, 43; a perpetual Revelation, i6i, 176, 230. Homer's Iliad, 204. Hope, this world emphatically the place of, 146; false shadows of, 169. Horse, his own tailor, 49. Ideal, the, exists only in the Actual, 178, 180. Imagination. See Fantasy. Immortality, a glimpse of, 237. Imposture, statistics of, 100. Independence, foolish parade of, 21 1, 227. Indifference, centre of, 154. Infant intuitions and acquire- ments, 79 ; genius and dulness, 84. Inspiration, perennial, 176, 189, 230. Invention, 34. Invisible, the. Nature the visible 412 INDEX. «..irnici.t of. 4S; invisible l>onds, uniting all Men to- gether, 53; the Visible and Invisible, 59, 197- Irish, the. I'oor-Slave, 254. Isolation, 97. Jesus of Nazareth, our divinest Symbol. C03, ::07. King, our true, chosen for us in Heaven, zzy Kingdom, a man's, 109. Know thyself, and what thou canst work at. 149. I^lx>ur. sacredness of, 206. landowning, trade of, 115. Ijinguage. the (iarment of Thought, 64 ; dead vocables, 95- laughter, significance of, 29. I.ieschen. 20. Life. Human, picture of. 17, 137, 155, 170; Life-purpose, 121 ; speculative mystery of, 1 50, 220, 240 ; the most important transaction in, i 53 ; nothing- ness of, 166. Light the beginning of all Crea- tion, 178. Louie mortar and wordy Air- c.isilcs. 47 ; underground workshop of Logic, 60, 200. i otiis XV., ungodly age of, 14S. Love, what we emphatically name. 122; pyrotechnic phe- nomena of, 124, 20I ; not alto- gether a delirium, 130; how possible in its highest form, I7». «94. 267 Ludicrous, feeling and instances of the, 42, 164. Magna Charta, 245. Malthus's over-population panic, 205. Man, by nature naked, 2, 50, 55 ; essentially a tool-using ani- mal, 35 ; the true Shekinah, 58 ; a divine Emblem, 64, 197, 199, 217, 241; two men alone honourable, 206. See Think- ing Man. Metaphors the stuff of Lan- guage, 64. Metaphysics inexpressibly unpro- ductive, 47. Milton, 149. Miracles, significance of, 231, 238. Monmouth-Street and its " Ou' clo'" Angels of Doom, 219. Mother's, a, religious influence, 89. Motive-Millwrights, 200. Mountain scenery, 13S. Mystery, all-pervading domaiii of, 61. Nakedness and hypocritical Clothing, 50, 56 ; . a naked Court-Ceremonial, 54; a naked Duke addressing a naked House of Lords, 55. Names, significance and influ- ence of, 78, 235. Napoleon and his Political Evan- gel, 162. Nature, the God-written Apoca- lypse of, 46, 58 ; not an Ag- gregate, l)ut a Whole, 62, 139, INDEX. 413 222, 234; Nature alone an- tique, 92 ; sympathy with, 137, 163 ; the ' Living Garment of God,' 171; Laws of Nature, 232. Necessity, brightened into Duty, 88. Newspaper Editors, 39 ; our Mendicant Friars, 229. Nothingness of Life, 166. Obedience, the Lesson of, 89, 226. Orpheus, 239. Over-population, 205. Own, conservation of a man's, 181. Paradise and Fig-leaves, 32 ; prospective Paradises, 122,131. Passivity and Activity, 88, 145. Past, the, inextricably linked with the Present, 155 ; for- ever extant, 236. Paupers, what to do with, 208. Peace-Era, the much-predicted, 159- Peasant Saint, the, 207. Pelham, and the Whole Duty of Dandies, 252. Perseverance, law of, 215. Person, mystery of a, 58, 118, 121, 217. Philosophies, Cause-and-Effect, 31- Phoenix, Death-birth, 216, 221, 243- Property, 181. Proselytising, 7, 267. Radicalism, Speculative, 11, 25, 56. Raleigh's, Sir Walter, fine man- tle, 42. Religion, dead letter and living spirit of, 104 ; weaving new vestures, 196, 250. Reverence, early growth of, 90 ; indispensability of, 227. Richter, 28. Saints, living Communion of, 224, 230. Sarcasm, the panoply of, 118. Sartor Resartus, genesis of, 7 ; its purpose, 243. Saturn or Chronos, 117. Savage, the aboriginal, ^y Scarecrow, significance of the, 55- Sceptical goose-cackle, 61. School education, insignificance of, 91, 95 ; tin-kettle terrors and incitements, 93; need of Soul-Architects, 95. Science, the Torch of, i ; the Scientific Head, 60. Secrecy, benignant efiicacies of, 198. Self-activity, 24. Self-annihilation, 169. Shame, divine, mysterious growth of, 35 ; the soil of all Virtue, 198. Silence, 163 ; the element in which all great things fashion themselves, 198. Simon's, Saint, aphorism of the golden age, 215 ; a false appli- cation, 269. Smoke, advantage of consuming one's, 136. Society founded upon Cloth, 47, 414 INDEX. 53, 57 ; how Society becomes possible, 195; social Death and New-Birth, 196, 214, 222, 243 ; as good as extinct, 210. Solitude. See Silence. Sorrow-pangs of Self-deliver- ance, 137, 144, 146; divine depths of Sorrow, 172; Wor- ship of Sorrow, 175. Space and Time, the Dream- Canvas upon which Life is imaged, 48, 58, 231, 236. Spartan wisdom, 20S. Speculative intuition, 46. See German. Speech, great, but not greatest, 198. Sphinx-riddle, the Universe a, US- Stealing, 182, 207. Stupidity, blessings of, 147. Style, varieties of, 65. Suicide, 151. Sunset, 83, 139. Swallows, migrations and co- operative instincts of, 86. Swineherd, the, 83. Symbols, 197 ; wondrous agency of, 199; extrinsic and intrinsic, 202 ; superannuated, 205, 211. Tailors, symbolic significance of, 263. Temptations in the wilderness, 166. Testimonies of Authors, 398. Teufelsdrockh's Philosophy of Clothes, 5 ; he proposes a toast, 1 2 ; his personal appear- ance, and silent, deepseated Sansculottism, 12, 13 ; thawed into speech, 16; memorable watch-tower utterances, 17 ; alone with the Stars, 19; ex- tremely miscellaneous environ- ment, 20 ; plainness of speech, 24 ; universal learning, and multiplex literary style, 26 ; ambiguous-looking morality, 27; one instance of laughter, 28 ; almost total want of ar- rangement, 29 ; feeling of the ludicrous, 42 ; speculative Radicalism, 56; a singular Character, 67 ; Genesis prop- erly an Exodus, 72 ; unprece- dented Name, 76 ; infantine experience, 79 ; Pedagogy, 90 ; an almost Hindoo passivity, 91; school-boy jostling, 93; heterogeneous University- Life, 99 ; fever-paroxysms of Doubt, 104 ; first practical knowledge' of the English, 105; getting under way, 107 ; ill-success, 113 ; glimpse of high -life, 114 ; casts himself on the Universe, 121; reverent feeling towards Women, 122; frantically in love, 124 ; first interview with Blumine, 127; inspired mo- ments, 129; short of practical kitchen-stuff, 133 ; ideal bliss and actual catastrophe, 134 ; sorrows, and peripatetic sto- icism, 135 ; a parting glimpse of his Beloved on her way to England, 140 ; how he over- ran the whole earth, 141 ; Doubt darkened into Unbe- lief, 146 ; love of Truth, 148 ; a feeble unit, amidst a threat- INDEX. 415 ening Infinitude, 1 50 ; placid indifference, 151; Baphometic Fire-baptism, 1 54 ; a Hyper- borean intruder, 163 ; Noth- ingness of Life, 166 ; Tempta- tions in the wilderness, 166 ; dawning of a better day, 169 ; the Ideal in the Actual, 178; finds his true Calling, 180 ; his Biography a symbolic Adum- bration, significant to those who can decipher it, 183 ; a wonder-lover, seeker and worker, 188 ; in Monmouth- Street among the Hebrews, 219; concluding hints, 265, 266 ; his public History not yet done, perhaps the better part only beginning, 270. Thinking Man, a, the worst enemy of the Prince of Dark- ness, 108, 180.; true Thought can never die, 224. Time-Spirit, life-battle with the, "jl, 117; Time, the universal wonder-hider, 239. Titles of Honour, 225. Tools, influence of, 35 ; the Pen, the most miraculous of tools, 180. Unbelief, era of, 102, 148 ; Doubt darkening into, 146 ; escape from, 168. Universities, 99. Utilitarianism, 146, 212. View-hunting and diseased Self- consciousness, 140. Voltaire, 175; the Parisian Di- vinity, 228. War, 157. Wisdom, 59. Woman's influence, 122. Wonder the basis of Worship, 60 ; region of, 245. Words, slavery to, 47 ; Word- mongering and Motive-grind- ing, 147. Workshop of Life, 180. See Labour. Young Men and Maidens, 116, 121. INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. Aaron's Rod, 361. absolviren, 335. Abt Vogler, 382. accident, 279. Adamite, 310. Adam-Kadmon, 296. Adams, W. D., 284. Adam's first task, 320. Addison, 310. adjectival phrase, German, 281. ^neid, 312, 315, 326, 348, 385, 395- Esthetic Tea, 331, 335. ' affectation of life,' 366. age of chivalry, 386- Agora, 321. Ahrimanism, 387. ' airs from Heaven,' 339. airts, 289. Alaric, 371. Alastor, 345. Alexander, 354, 384. Alexander'' s Feast, 283, 369. Allge?neine Zeificng, 288. Alison, A., 278, 353. 'all kindreds,' 353. all visible things, 315. Almacks, 387. Almanack, Belfast, 294. Alton Locke, 349. 'Amicus Plato,' 285. Ammon's Temple, 336. Amphion, 383. Analects from Richter, 309. Anatomy of Drunkenness, 278. Anatomy of Melancholy, 289, 296, 31O' 2>Z^^ 362, 368, 394. Ancient Marmer, 332. Ancient Pistol, 330, 370. Angelo, Michael, 365. Anglo-Dandiacal, 295. Anglo-Saxon Church, Antiquities of 293. Anthropometamorphosis, 305. Antony and Cleopatra, 304, 336. Anzeiger, Weissnichtwo'sche, 282. ' Apage Satana,' 355. Apollo, radiant, ever young, 294. apparitions, 278, 290. appetite of Ravens, 392. aprons, episcopal, tucked-in, 301; of paper, 301. Arabian Nights, 314, 344, 381. Arabian Whinstone, 394. Arachne, 314. Arbela, 384. Arbuthnot, J., 317. Archimedes-lever, 338. Aristophanes, 377. Aristotle's Ethics, 345. Arkwright, 314. Armida's Palace, 351. Arnauld, 320. Arnold, E., Sir, 391. Arnold, M., 379. Ars Poetica, 302, 383. Ashton, T., 348. Astoria, 378. As You Like It, 289, 310, Z^d- Athos Monks, 387. 4i8 INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. Attorney Logic, 315. Augustine, 346, 3S3. Auscultator, 330. Aus Meineu Leben, 284, 31 1, 357- Aus Spaniiti, 280. Austin, Mrs., 282. Aylmers Field, 322. Hannerman, Sir R., xxxi. banyan-grove, 297. Baphometic Baptism, 351. Bardili, 2S6. Barendz, 356. Basilisk-glance, 344. Bauemkrieg, 369. liazard-Llnfantin, 396. beards singed, 374. Beattie, J., 327. beast-godhood, 377. Bede, 290. bed of justice, 312. benefit of clergy, 312. Bentham, J., 385. Berkleyan idea, 290. Bernard, J., 392. 'beyond plummet's sounding,' 384. Birds, Domestic Hnbits of, 346. Birrell, A., Ix, 385. Blacku>0od^s Magazine, 393. l)lood, 310. Blumine, an ideal picture, xxxv. beauty of character, xxxv. Froude's opinion, xxx. her name, 336. Mrs. Mercer's opinion, xxxiii. Mrs. Strachey's opinion, xxxiii. prototype of, xxix. ' bodying forth,' 289. Boileau, 305. Bolivar's Cavalry, 306. Book of Days, 355. Boswell, 281, 284, 375, 383, 386. Brahminical feeling, 391. bricks without straw, -^^Z- Brimley, G., 388. British Literature, glory of, 283. British Readers — invective, 396. Browne, Sir T., 305, 344, 374. Browning, R., 282, 283, 382. Buchan-Bullers, 393. Biichmann, 2S8, 338, 367. buck, 310. Budget of Paradoxes, 275, 369. Burger, y]-], 383. bull, Luther burning, 379. Buller, C, xiv, 328. Bullers, Carlyle tutor to, xiv. Bulwer, 392. Buridan's Ass, 368. burin, 292. Burke, 386. Burroughs, ]., 351. Burton, R., 289, 296, 310, 331, 362, 368, 394. Biisching's Geography, 318. Byron, 346, 372, 378. Caaba, 394. cabalistico-sartorial, 296. Cabanis, 279. Cadmus, 378. Caesar, 324. Gallic War, 391. Cain, 346. calenture, 341. Callot, 302. Calypso-Island, 334. camisade of Hochkirch, 318. Campus Martius, 321. cant, Ixii, 284. Cardan, 275. Catholic Dictionary, 314, 376. Carlyle against Hume, 381. Carlyle and the Rose-goddess, 328, 332- INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION 419 Carlyle and the Open Secret of His life, xxi n, 376. Carlyle, at Craigenputtock, xiii. student of German, xv, xxxvi. style, humorous deprecia- tion of, xliii, xliv. transplanter of German thought, Ixviii. — use of his material, xxii, xxui. Carlyle's Correspondence with Emersojt, 316. Correspondence with Goethe, 275, 276, 277, 280, 282, 284, 289, 316, 326, 367, 395, 396. Chartism, 372. devices to make his mean- ing clear, xl. — Early Letters, 275, 276, 277, 286, 289, 294, 295, 309, 327, 328, 330, 345, 349, 375, 379, 390 ; specimen of style in, xlvii. — Early Life (Froude), 278, 282, 286, 289, 295, 297, 300, 301, 305, 306, 309, 311, 312, 313. 3M, 315' 316, 320, 322, 323. 324. 325' 326, 328, 329, 33O' 331' ZZZ^ 344, 346, 347' 348, 349, 35O' 35^' 355' 356, 357' 359' 360, 362, 366, 367, 374' 375' 379. 380, 381, 383, 384, 390, 395, 396, 397. — early married life, xvii. — Essays, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 284, 286, 294, 297, 298, 302, 306, 307, 309, 313, 315, 317, 322, 326, 328, 329, 330, ZZ^> 333, 334, ZZ^. 343' 344' 346, 347' 35O' 35I' 352, 354' 355' 357' 358' 359, 362, 363, 364, 366, 367, 368, y]T„ 375, 376, 377. yi^^ 380, 38I' 382, 384, 393, 395- Carlyle's Frederick the Great, 319, 366. French Revolution, 288, 291, 366, 369. horsemanship, 309. influence, Ixx, Ixxi. fournal, xvii, 297, 298, 301, 305, 309' 31T, 313, 314, 315, 316, 322, 323, 326, 330, 346, 348, 349' 350, 355' 357' 359' 362, 367, 374, 379, 380, 381, 383, 384, 394. Last Words, 318. Letters, 2j z^, 280, 282, 283, 287, 290, 295, 300, 323, 347, 35I' 356, 357' 362, 366. — Life ill London (Froude), 280, 306, 323, 345. — Life of Schiller, 310, 348, 353' 355' yiZ^ 384- — method of quoting, 311. — Remi7iiscences, 276, 292, 295, 300, 309, 317, 323, 327, 328, 329, Zy^ ZZZ> 339' 349' 360, 361, 362. — self-praise, xl, 283, 293. — Translations, 280, 287, 288, 297, 298, 301, 306, 311, 312, Z^Z^ Z^l^ 318, 319, 320, 330, 340, 345, 347' 348, 356, 375- youth, xiii. carriages, top-laden, 290. 'carried of the Spirit,' 355. 'carriere ouverte,' 354. Cassini, Jacques, 294. Castle of Indolence, 327. Castorologia, 378. Cato, quoted, 310. celestial bed, 347. ' Centre of Indifference,' Ixvi. Century Dictionary, 281, 351, 39: 'chalk, marked with,' 2S3. Chalmers, 317. ' champion of England,' 370. 420 INDEX TO MOTES AND INTRODUCTION. 'chaos were come,' 312. chemical mixture, 284. 'chief of sinners,' 347. ChtlJt Harold, 372. childish sports, 322. China and the Chinese (Davis), 2S6. China, Travels in (Horrow), 286. Chronicle of the Drum, 352. Chrysalis, 362. Chrysostom, 313. Cicero, 306, "i^x^, 361. Cid, 318. Cincinnatus, 318. City of God, -^-Xf Classical Disquisitions, 281, 310. Cleopatra, 304. Clotha, 386. ' clothes, cast, reverence for,' 375. Code Napoleon, 361. codification, 38 5. * Cogito ergo sum,' 307. Coleridge, Ixiii. Com us, 321. Confession of Faith, 388. conflux of eternities, 313. 'confusion worse confounded, '292. Congreve rocket, 335. Contrat Social, Du, 278. Conway, M., 350, 357, 365. cooking animal, 299. Costume in England, 305, 310. Cotton, Sir R., 385. Count Eat horn, 429. ' Courage then,' 381. couriers, 290. courtesy to all, 374. courtier and the bran, 305. Coutumes, Costumes, 295. Cousin, v., 279. Cowper, The Task, 290, 362. cows' jackets, 309. Creasy, E. S., 345, 384. creek, the world, 382. crepiren, 327. Cud worth, 291, 320, 377. Curiosities of Literature, 310, 385. Curragh, the, 371. custom, Ixiii, 382. cygnet or gosling, 331. cynic's tub, 365. Dalai-Lama, 292. D'Alembert, 365. dance of the dead, 383. dandiacal household, 392. Darnley, 305. ' dashes his sponge,' 395, D'Aubigne, 379, 3S2. Day and Martin, 366. ' Dead and Unborn,' 379. Dechanel, 361. De Civitate Dei, 383. decoration, 297. Dekker, 344, 374. De L* Esprit, 306, 321. Delphic avenue, 377. De Morgan, A., 275, 369. De Quincey, 30S, -^t^^. Descartes, 307. Desdemona, 318. Deserted Village, The, 321. devil, 319. devil dead, 349. dew on grass, 338. Dictionary of Commerce, 333. Dilettante, 315. 'diluted madness,' 362. Dio Chrysostom, 395. Diodorus, 336, 391. Diogenes and decency, 365. Diogenes Laertius, 291, 349, 358, ^ 365, 38 1. Dionysius' Ear, 376. Directorium Anglicanupn, 301. Disowned, The, 392. D'Israeli, 310, 385, dissevered limb, 355. INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. 421 divine idea, 364. doctor's head, 314. Doctor utriusque Juris, 374. documents, requisite, 284. doleful creatures, 358. Donatus, 373. Don Carlos, 373. Don Quixote, 285. doubloons, bag of, 293. doubt, 360. Downing Street, 351. drab, scarlet, significance of, 295. dream-grotto, 307. Drummond, Jonson's Conversa- tions with, 305. Duddon, Sonnets to the River, 324. Duenna Cousin, 339. ' Du Himmel,' 343. Dumdrudge, 352. dumpling, cooking of a, 277. Dunciad, 331. D'Urfey, T., 287. dust, element of, 291. Dutch Republic, Rise of, 367, 369. duty nearest, 360. Duty of man, 360. Dying Swan, The, 379. eagle renewing beak, 346. Early Ki7igs of Persia, 300. 'earth's mountains,' 384. earth, too crowded, 371. eating one's heart, 349. Ecce Homo, 361. Eden Bower, 296. Edersheim, 393. egg of Eros, 377. El Dorado, 336. electric machines, 393. Elysian brightness, 315. Emancipation, Catholic, 280. Emerson, 317. enchanter's familiar, 329. end of man, an action, 345. 'endure the shame,' 347. English in Ireland, 390. English People, Short History of, 277. Entepfuhl, 318. Epictetus, 345. Erasmus, 285. Ernulphus-cursings, 351, Erostratus, 305. Erskine, Rev. R., 287. ' Es leuchtet mir ein,' 358. Esprit des Lois, 295. Essay on Criticism, 302. Essay 07t Man, 307, 317, Essay on Truth, 327. Estrapades, 345. Everlasting No, Ixv, 350. Everlasting No, suggestion of, 346. Everlasting Yea, Ixvii. Ewigkeit, 290. Ew. Wohlgeboren, 395. Examen Rigorosum, 330. Expedition to Orinoco, 306. Faerie Queen, 291, 352. Fairholt, F. W., 287, 305, 310. Fajnily Library, 283. Fancy-Bazaar, 366. fantastic tricks, 368. fat things, 348. fat oxen, 281. Faust, 306, 309, 311, 330, 350. Walpurgisnacht, 296. Faust's Death-song, 350. Mantle, 306. Faustus, Doctor, 340. 'feast of shells,' 359. ferment, air, 356. Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World, 384. finance, gold-mines of, 28 1. fire-balls, 2^-j. first love, infinite, 335. 42 2 IXDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. ' Kit for treasons,' 295. Fit/patrick, Miss, xxxi ; Carlyle's description of her, xxxii; Was she IMumine? xxxiii ; her own statement, xxxiii. Forum, Ihe, 275. forum, descend, 286. Fortunatus' Hat, 344. Ecu re lurdes 0/ Noa/i's Ark, 374. Fox, George, 363 ; drinking beer, 364 ; in a hollow tree, 365 ; leathern suit, 365 ; Journals, 364. 365- ' fractional parts of a man,' 393. Frankfort Coronations, 311. Franklin' snatched the Thunder,' 394- Eraser's Magazine, 278, 283, 397. Frederic the Great, 318. Freiligrath, 2S0. French Rcz'olution, 288, 291, 366, 369- frenzy, fine, 377. Friedrich d'or, 319. ' Frisch zu, Hruder,' 329. ' from God,' 384. 'from such meditations,' 342. Froude, J. A., 390; opinion, of Hlumine, xxx. Gallia liraccata, 297. game-preservers, 321. Gao, 299. Garnett, R., xiii. Ix, 293, 368, 375. Gates, L. E., 27S. (ieeza, Sacchara, 352. Geisterscher, 348. genii enfranchised, 341. genius, 336. Georgics, 393. 'geometric scale,' 281. Germania, 390. Gerund-grinder, 326. 'getrostcn Muthes,' 366. ghosts, 384. Gibbon, 300, 371, 387, 394. Gibeonites, 366. Gil Bias, 293. Gilpin, J., 278. glass-bell, largest imaginable, 37^- Gniidige Frau, 332. Gneschen, 320. ' Gnostic shape,' 386. Godwin, W., 369. Goethe, 275, 288, 311, 315, 323, ZZ^^ 334, 336, 342, 346, 348, 349' 354. 358, 38o» 394- GoetJie, Characteristics of, 282. Goethe, prophet, 380. gold-vapour, 374. Golgotha, 349. Goliath, 354. goose-hunting, 281. Gordon, Margaret, xxx. Gott, Gemi'ith u. I Felt, 330, 334. Graham, Dr. James, 347. 'grass grow, hear the,' 377. 'greater than Zeno,' 358. Green, J. R., 277. grenadier Sergeant, 318. Grenzen der Menschheit, 323. Gretna Green, 291. Grimm, 345. Griinen Gans, 287. Grundriss der ersten Logik, 286. Guidance, Freedom, Immortality, 371- Guides to English Thought, Mod- ern, 289. Gukguk, 287. Gulliver'' s Travels, 329. gunpowder, invention of, 298. Gutzlaff, Rev. Charles, 353. Hadjee, 344. Hadrian, 353. haggis, 395. INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. 423 Hallanshakers, 390. Hamburg Merchant, 316. Hamlet, 326, 339, 351, 373, 374, 382, 383- handwriting on the wall, 348. Hannibal-like, 395. happiness, 348. a whim, 357. Hapsburg Regaha, 319. Harris, J., works of, 395. Harrison, F., Ix. ' haste stormfully,' 384. hatred, y]']. Haupt und Staats- Action, 311. Hebron, 317. Hegel, 286. Heinrich v. 0/terdingen, 342, 366. Hell-gate Bridge, 362. Helvetius, 321 ; quoted, 306. Hengst and Horsa, 290. Henry the Fifth, 370. Henry the Fourth, 312, 371. Henry the Sixth, 386. Henry the Fowler, 326. Hercules, choice of, 361. Heretic^s Tragedy, The, 282. Herodotus, 327, 336, 378. Heroes and Hero-Wq^sJxip, 353, 354, 379, 3S0, 382. hero-worsViip, 380. herrinfv-busses, 333. J^^^'rings, Anmial Passage of, 278. tlierring. Migrations of the, 278. ^Hertha, 390. 'Hesiod, 332, 348. Hespei'tis, 395. Heuschrecke, 283 ; like Boswell, 292. Hibbert, S., 278. ' hie jacet,' 333. Hinterschlag, 324. Hippisley, G., 306. hodman and architect of teach- ing, 326. Horet ihr Herren, 280. Holbein'' s Dance of Death, 383. Holy Alliance, 332. Homer nods, 302. Hoole's Orlando Fnrioso, 307. hope, man based on, 346. Horace, 283, 285, 302, 311, 352, 383- Horngate, 385. Horn of Plenty, 331. Howard's Cyclopcedia, 341, 387. Hue, Abbe, 292. Hudibras, 281, 332. Hugo of Trimberg, 354. Humboldt, 299. Hume, 381. Humphrey Clinker, 298, 395. hungry young, 327. Hutton, J., 276. Hutton, R. H., 289. Huxley, Ixi. 'Ideologist,' 353. // Penseroso, 292, 366. Imaginary Conversations, 336. 'imagination of meat,' 327. ' immortal by a kiss,' 340. 'infant mewling,' 310. Infernal Chase, 345. In Memoriam, 303, 320, 350, 351. in petto, 288. Inquiry Co7icerning the Hunan Understanding, 381. * Ifitellectical System (Cudworth), 291, 320, 377. interior parts, 329. 'in the dry tree,' 380. Intitnations of Innnortality, 319, 32J. invisibility, transit out of, 318. ' I remained alone,' 343. iron swim, 381. Irving, E., friendship with Car- lyle, xiv. IXDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. Irving'^ engagement, xv. /us, 2&7- •It is the Nighi,' 395. Jcnner. 344- Jerusalem Delivered, 352. ♦ Jesus the Messta/i, Life and Tiffies e/". 393- Joan and My Lady, 312. job, argument from, 38 1. JobVnews, 372. Johnson and ghosts. 3S3. Johnson's bow, 375. Joseph the Second, 369. Joshua, 324. journalists, 301. Justinian, 361. Juvenal, 354. Kaiser uttd der Abt, 377. KeHugg. S. II., 391. A'etiihvcrtjt, 304. Kepler. 379. Kilmarnock, 297. king, etymology of, 379. kingdoms of death, 326. kings sweated down, 353. A'leider, Die, 2S2. - * Know thyself,' 349. Knox's daughter, 300. Koran, 293. Kuhbach, 321. Kunersdorf. 318. I^dv Hamilton and Lord N'elson, 347- I-agrange, 275. I^issez-faire, 372. l-imb, C, 394. I^mb, armer Teufel, 315. I^ndor, 336. Lang, Andrew, 293. I-anguage, Philosophies of, 27S. I^place, 276. Larkin, IL, xxi, 376. Ijiughing Animal, 298. Lawrence, Sir \V. 279. Lear, 285, 310. learned, 282. Lecky, Ix. legislature, make rich, 357. Leibnitz, 335. Leiden des Jungen Wert/ier, ^^S- Lempriere, 297, 305, 326, 365, 376. Leonore, 383. Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, 385. Library of the Fathers, 346. Library of Useful Knowledge, 295. Lies, Prince of, 28 5. ' life for a living man,' 331. life, fraction of, 357. Life of Schiller, 310, 348, 353, 355. 373. 384- life, simple and complex, 332. vanity of, 329. Light of Asia, The, 391. Light of Asia and the Light of the World, The, 391. light-sparkles, 309. ' like a wheel,' 341. Like and Unlike, 334. _Lilis, 296. limbOSS' J97- Lingard, 293. Lingua-franca, i^-] . liquors, intoxicating, 27i>-.-.. Littre, 288, 295, 395. 'lives, moves,' 279. Livy, 306, 314, 395. logbooks, our nautical, 276. logic-chopper, 314. London, A Sta-vey of, 317. London, a Wen, 375. 'look before and after,' 279. Loretto, 365. Lothario, 360. ' Love not Pleasure,' 358. Lozis Labours Lost, 312, 364. Lover's Leap, 344. INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. 425 Lowell, on Richter's influence, xlvi. Lubberland, 348. Lucretius, 326, 336. Luther's inkstand, 382. Lycidas, 327, 387. Lycurgus, 361, Macaronic verses, 386. Macaulay, 292, 318. Macbeth, 331, 336. Maclise Portrait Gallery, The, 279, 284, 299. Macnish, R., 278. madness, method in, 351. Magendie, F., 279. Maggiore, 322. Magna Charta, 385. Mahmoud, 345. Malade imaginaire, Le, 386. Malkin, B. H., 281, 310. Malthus, 292, 370. Malzleins, 345. man clothed with Authority, 315; with a Body, 316 ; with Beauty, 316. man, heap of Glass, 368. ' still man,' 396. Manfred, 356. Manicheism, 386. mankind sailing in fleets, 23Z- 'many shall run,' 281. Marchfeld, 352. Maria Stuart, 310. Marlowe, 340. Mary Queen of Scots, Life of (Chalmer's), 305. Marseillese Hymns, 369. Martyrs of Science, 379. Massinger, 362. Maud, 372. Maximen u. Reflexionen, 275, 315. 349> 354- Measure for Measure, 315, 368. Mechanics Institute, 314. ' Mein Vermdchtniss ivie herrlich' 275- Melchizedek, 288. Melechsala, 301, 347. Memnon's statue, 339. men alike tall, 354. Mephistopheles, 294. Mercer, Mrs., opinion of Blumine, xxxiii. Mercha7it of Venice, 295, 379. Mer7-y Wives of Witidsor, 330. Messias of Nature, 368. metaphors, 316. Meyrick, Sir Samuel, 303. Alidstanmer ^Vighfs Dream, 2S9, 377- Migne, 346. Mignet, 354. Milo, 305. Milton, 292, 312, 313, 315, 327, 345' 348, 356, 362, 366, 387. Minerva, 294. miraculous, the, 383. Mirza's Hill, 2,77- Miserere, 381. ' mistress' eyebrow,' 386. Modest Proposal, A, 371. ' Mochte es gedeihen,^ 283. Mohler, 386. Mohammedan reverence, 388. Moloch, 393. Monastery, The, 282. money-changers, 377. Monmouth St., 375. Montesquieu, 295. Montgolfier, 340. Moore, T., 390. ' more in sorrow,' 374. ' more meant than meets the ear,' 366. Morley, John, 295, 380. ' morning stars sing,' 381. ' mortal coil,' 373. ,6 /.VDi:X TO AOJ'ES AND INTRODUCTION. motive millwrights, 368. Motley, J. L., ^(^1, 3^- Moscow, 307. mountain, down-rushing, 320. mountains, 341. Much Ado, 323. Miiller, F. v., 2S2. M umbo- J umbo, 370. Mutiny, l\iiiii>nsct'nces of the Great, 342. My 07V n Times, History of, 317. Napoleon Buonaparte, Life of (Scott), 361. National Library, 283. ' Natural Knemies,' 352. Natural Supernaturalism, 381. Nature's virtue, 369. ' Navibus (infandum !) amissis,' 3'-- Nazarene, 387. Neander, 386, 387. Nebuchadnezzar's furnace, 350. necessity, ring of, 322. Nepenthe, 321. Nero fiddling, 347. Netherland Ciueux, 369. Newton, 378, 379. Nibelung hoard, 297. Nichol, T., Thomas Ca^Iyle, xiii n, Ix, 325. 350, 357. Nifl and Muspel, 296. Night, reign of, 291. nights and suppers, 285. Night-Thoughts, 291. Night-thoughts, 291, 330. Nineteenth Century, 332, 390. Noble Mansion, 335. ' no cheating,' 286. Noctes Atnbrosianae, 279, 283, 393, 397- no mystery, 314. Northern Mythology, 296. Northwest Passage, T^i,y Notes and Queries, 285. Nose-of-Wax, 362. Not- Me, 351. Novalis, 342, 359, 366, 368, 371, 374- Nurnberg man, 326. Obiter Dicta, Ix, 385. Odyssey (Butcher and Lang), 321. (Pope), 334. Oken, 286. Old Adam, 35$. Old-Clothes Jewry, 317. Old Fortunatus, 344. Old Mortality, 379. Oliver Yorke, 284. ' one and indivisible,' 309. ' one thing needful/ 347. Open sesame, 381. Ophiuchus, 356. opossums, pouch, 312. Orbis pictus, 296. Orinoco Indians, 299. Orinoco and A pure. Expedition to, 306. Orlatido Furioso, 307. Ormuz, 322. Othello, 312, 318, 335. Ottoman Ttirks, Histoiy of the, 345- Ovid, 331, 336. 'outwatch the Bear,' 292. Oxenstiern, 291. P.P. Clerk of this Parish, 317. Pagoda, sacred, 375. Palais Bourbon, 351. Pancirolli Rerum Mirabilium Libri Duo, 298. Pandemonian lava, 315. Paper Bags, 317. Papin's Digester, 361. Paracelsus, 283. INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. 427 Paradise lost, 291, 292, 312, 313, 315. 3^7^ 334, ZZ^^ 345. 34^, 356, 362. Paris and Voltaire, 380. Park, Mungo, 370. ' passes by,' 386. Paul and Seneca, 382. Paullini, C. F., 303. Paul Pry, 291. Pawaw, 370. ' pay the piper,' 352. peace, blessings of, 372. Peace Society, 380. pearl diver, toughest, 283. Pecunia, 298. Peep-o'-Day Boys, 390. Pelhain, 388, 390 ; contrast to Sartor, xxxv. Pelion on Ossa, 393. perfectibility, 363. Peterloo, 363. Petrarchan and Werterean ware, 335- Philip the Second, 369. Philistine, 337. Phillips, Mrs. (Miss Kirkpatrick), xxxiii. Philoctetes, 345. Philosophie der Geschichte, 278. Philosophie der Sprache, 278. philosopher in the middle, 313. Philosophy , Spirit of Modern, 286, 359- Phoenix, 373. Pickleherring, 311. Pierre-Pertuis, 385. Pilgerstab, 341. Pilgrini's Progress, 317, 365. Pillar of Cloud, 348. Pills to Purge Melancholy, 287. Pindar, Peter, Works of, 277. pineal gland, 313. pinnacle, 289. Piozzi, 375. Pisgah, 317. Pistol, Ancient, 330, 370. Pitt diamond, 319, ' Place of Hope,' 347. Plato, 307. plenary inspiration, 358. Pliny, 297, 339. Plutarch, 306, 321, 336, 338, 361. 371- Pontiff, 2^\y. Pope, 285, 302, 307, 317, 331, 334, 347- Pope Pius, 353. Pope's Odyssey, 334. tiara, 376. Popinjay, 379. population, repression of, 370. Potatoes-and-Point, 391. potheen, 391. pottery, 278. Potwallopers, 392. Praeterita, 282. present God, 369. pre-established harmony, 335. Prince Edward Island, Lady lian- nerman in, xxxi. Princess, The, 334. Principia Philosophiac, 307. printing, invention of, 297. ' Prison called Life,' 376. 'private Oratories,' 390. Program, 288. Progress of the Species, 327. Profit-and-Loss Philosophy, 347. Promethetis (Goethe), 348. Profnethens Unbound, 34S. Prometheus Vinctus, 347. property, 279. property in our bodies, 361. prose, eighteenth century, the norm, 1 ; later developments of, li. proselytising, 283. Prospero's Island, 322. 4^ S IXDEX TO .VOTES AND IXTRODUCTION. PseUiioiioxiii E/'iihmica, 288, 30 5, 344. 374- public gullible, -^27. puffery, 285. rvrrhus, 33S. Ouakfrs, History r<»th, 375. Spartans and Helots, 371. S;.;tator, 302, 377, 388. speculation, ::8i. speculation in eyes. 331. spt*. Ilium, JiSg. speech to conceal thought, 367. Sphinx's Kiddle, The, 308. Sphinx's secret. 307. Spice-country, 334. Spirit of Love, 292. ' squeak and gibber,' 383. St. Augustine, 346, 383. St. Klizabeth. 300. St. Martin's Summer, 335. St. Sophia, 394. St. Stephen's. 312. Stamped Hroad-sheet, 302. Stanziis from the Grand Char- treuse, 379. .star of a Lord, 293. steam-engine, 299. Su/Za, Journal to, 302. Sterne. 372. Stewart. Dugald. 279. Still.schweigen und Co^'^. 282. Stow's Surrey 0/ London, 317. Strachey, Cleorge. 32S. straddling animal. 310. street-advertisements, 317. 'stroke transmitted,' 383. Stum me Liehe, 2S0, 320. Suetonius, 324, 347. suicide, 349. sulphur, choking by, 290, 429. suns. Herschel's, 382. swan song, 37^). Swift, XX, xlvi, 1, 302, 329, 365, yj-^, 386, 394- Swiss inscription, 367. Sybaris, 327. Sybil-cave, 348. Sybilline, 326. sympathetic-ink; 317. 'tables dissolved,' 311. Tacitus, 339, 347. 390- Tailor Patched, The, 284. Tailor's Melancholy, 393. Taine, on Carlyle's style, xlii. Talapoin, 292. Tale of a Tub, 365, 376, 394 ; in- fluence of, on Sartor, xx, xxi. Talismuji, The, 381. Talmud, 293. Taming of the Shreu>, 327, 364, 386, 394- Taotikwang, Life of, 353- Tarakwang, 353. Tartar steak, 299. Tartar}', Thibet and China, Trav- els in, 292. Taste, Mature and Principles of 278, 353- Taste, Standard of, 278. Tattersall's, 295. ' tears, wipe away,' 356. Tempest, 322, 384, 385. Templars of Cyprus, 351, 376. temple, one only, 374. temptations, 355. Teniers, 302. Tennyson, 320, 327, 334, 341, 350, 35I' 372, 379- Teufelsdrockh, the name, 282 ; abandons law, 330 ; alone with the stars, 354; disbelieving all things, 338 ; invited to tea, 331 ; relations to Reinfred and Car- lyle, xxvi, xxvii; subsists by translation, 331 ; his assessor- INDEX TO NOTES AND INTRODUCTION. 431 ship, 331 ; light on, 331 ; his career typical, Ixiv ; his chronic sickness, 349 ; his despair, 350 ; his conversion, 350, 360; his Greek and Latin, 325; highest hope, 341 \ Hindoo character, 323 ; ironic tone, ^t^^ ; mother, 323 ; neck-halter, 330 ; read- ing, 323 ; reading at the uni- versity, 328 ; recommendations, 289 ; stern monodrama, 330 ; study of law, 328. Teusinke, 303. Themistocles, prayer of, 306. ' think and smoke,' 287. Thirdborough, 364. Thomson, Auhmin, 290. Thor, 370. Thoreau, on Carlyle, xlv, li, n. Thorpe, 296. Thoughts on Man, 369. * through a glass,' 385. Ticknor, 318. Ti77ihictoo, 320, 334. Time and Space, 381. titles, from fighting, 379. Tobacco, 287. Tod eines Kindes, Anf den, 384. Tool-using Animal, 298. Tour to the Hebrides, 299. Towgood, 328. triad, Carlyle's use of, Ivi, Ivii. Triesnitz, tree at, 353. Trismegistus, 320. Tristram Shandy, 285, 312, 313, 319, 320, 334, 341, 351. * true beginning,' 319. Truth, Essay on, 327. Tivelfth Night, 386. two-and-thirty quarters, 323. Tubal cain, 351. turkeys driven to market, 312. two-legged animal, 291. T'wo Voices^ 350. Tyndall, Ixi. Ude, 299. Uhland, 384. Ulfila, 379. Ulysses quoted, 307. universe, a symbol, 367. University-cap, 390. ' unspotted from the world,' 387. Urn Burial, 305. Utopia, 334. Value, Theory of, 278. Vanity's Ragfair, 365. Vaucluse, 353. vested interests, 372. view-hunting, 343. Vi7-ginians, The, 375. Vision of Judgmejit, 341. Vocabulary of Philosophy, 335. Volkslieder, Die Deutschen, 280. Voltaire, 348, 358, 364, 380. Voyage of Maeldune, 341. Wachler, L., 282. Wagram, 352. Wahngasse, 289. Walcot, John, 277. Waldschloss, 335. Walle7istein'' s Tod, 384. 'walls tumbled down,' 380. Wa7iderers Stu7-77ilied, 336. Wandering Jew, 288. war, net purport of, 352. watchcoat, 372. watchman, 395. watch-tower, 280. Water-babies, The, 372. ' weak, to be miserable,' 348. ' We are such stuff,' 385. Weissagu7ige7i des Bakis, 380. Weissnichtwo, 282. Welsh, Jane Baillie, xv ; as Blu- mine, xxxv ; Carlyle's relations with, xvi. 432 IXDBIX TO NOTES AMD INTRODUCTIOX. Wtrden u. W'nken det Literatur, 282. Werner, 276. M'frther, Leiden des Jungen, 335. nVstiUt. Dnan, zy ^, 360. wheel-spokes of Destiny, ^7^. ' where there is no light,' 380. whi-sperinp-gallery, 377. Whitehead. W., 298. ■ whose Author,' 382. ' whoso can look on Death,' 342. ' whoso hath ears,' 2S5. wicker idols, 391. Wilde Jdger, Der, 345. Wilhelm Meister, 275, 290, yi^ y-i^ 342. 353. 354. 357. 358. 360, 378, 379- Wilhelm Tell, 322. William the Silent, 367. Windlestraw, Duke of, 312. Winnipic, hunting by Lake, 378. Wisdont of Goethe, 360. wisdom, little, 291. wishing carpet, 344. witch's hair, 356. Wither. G., 287. ' without bottom,' 382. 'without Clod,' 348. 'without variableness,' 381. Wtt, Humour, and Satire of the Seventeenth Century, 348. 291, 356, women laid their hair, 380. wonder, 314. ' wonderful wonder,' 386. wonder, nine days, 289. Wordsworth, 324, 345. work in well-doing, 355. world, a Dog-cage, 355. World Well Lost, 353. W^orms, Diet of, 363. ' Worship of Sorrow,' Ixvii, 358. Wotton Reinfred, source of Sar- tor, xxii, xxxix ; synopsis of, xxiv, XXV ; quoted, 276, 285, 319, 322, 323, 324, 325, 326, 327, 328, 330, 332, 333, 335, ZZ^^ 337. ZZ^^ 339' 340, 341, 342, 343. 345' 347. 34S, 349 355. 357. 361, 368. ' wreck of matter,' 310. Yeast, 322. Young, Edward, 291, 330. Zacharia, 328. Zahdarm, 329. Zauberlehrling, 329. Zeitkiirzeude Lust, quoted, 304. Zelter, Goethe's Correspondence with, 289. Zeno, 358. Zerdusht, 387. Zinzendorf, 361. 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