· CHAPTER XI.

PROSPECTIVE.

THE Philosophy of Clothes is now to all readers, as we predi-t

cated it would do, unfolding itself into new boundless expansions, of a cloudcapt, almost chimerical aspect, yet not without azure met. loomings in the far distance, and streaks as of an Elysian bright ness; the highly questionable purport and promise of which it is becoming more and more important for us to ascertain. Is that a real Elysian brightness, cries many a timid wayfarer, or the reflex of Pandemonian lava? Is it of a truth leading us into beatific Asphodel meadows, or the yellow-burning marl of a Hellon-Earth?

Our Professor, (like other Mystics) whether delirious or inspired, gives an Editor enough to do. Ever higher and dizzier are the heights he leads us to; more piercing, all-comprehending, all-confounding are his views and glances. For example, this of. Nature being not an Aggregate but a Whole:

• Well sang the Hebrew Psalmist: "If I take the wings of the 'morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the universe, God is there." Thou too, O cultivated reader, who too probably art no Psalmist, but a Prosaist, knowing GoD only by tradition, 'knowest thou any corner of the world where at least FORCE is 'not? The drop which thou shakest from thy wet hand, rests 'not where it falls, but to-morrow thou findest it swept away; already, on the wings of the Northwind, it is nearing the Tropic ' of Cancer. How came it to evaporate, and not lie motionless? 'Thinkest thou there is aught motionless; without Force and 'utterly dead?

'As I rode through the Schwarzwald, I said to myself: That 'little fire which glows star-like across the dark-growing (nachtende) moor, where the sooty smith bends over his anvil, and

'thou hopest to replace thy lost horse-shoe,--is it a detached, 'separated speck, cut off from the whole Universe; or indis'solubly joined to the whole? Thou fool, that smithy-fire was '(primarily) kindled at the Sun; is fed by air that circulates 'from before Noah's Deluge, from beyond the Dogstar; therein, 'with Iron Force, and Coal Force, and the far stranger Force of Man, are cunning affinities and battles and victories of Force 'brought about it is a little ganglion, or nervous centre, in the 'great vital system of Immensity. Call it, if thou wilt, an un'conscious Altar, kindled on the bosom of the All; whose iron sacrifice, whose iron smoke and influence reach quite through 'the All; whose Dingy Priest, not by word, yet by brain and 'sinew, preaches forth the mystery of Force; nay preaches forth '(exoterically enough) one little textlet from the Gospel of Freedom, the Gospel of Man's Force, commanding, and one day to 'be all-commanding.

'Detached, separated! I say there is no such separation : 'nothing hitherto was ever stranded, cast aside; but all, were it 6 only a withered leaf, works together with all; is borne forward ' on the bottomless, shoreless flood of Action, and lives through 'perpetual metamorphoses. The withered leaf is not dead and 'lost, there are Forces in it and around it, though working in in'verse order; else how could it rot? Despise not the rag from 'which man makes Paper, or the litter from which the Earth 'makes Corn. Rightly viewed no meanest object is insignificant ; 'all objects are as windows, through which the philosophic eye 6 looks into Infinitude itself.

Again, leaving that wondrous Schwarzwald Smithy-Altar, what vacant, high-sailing air-ships are these, and whither will they sail with us?

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'All visible things are Emblems; what thou seest is not there on its own account; strictly taken, is not there at all: Matter ' exists only spiritually, and to represent some Idea, and body it 'forth. Hence Clothes, as despicable as we think them, are so unspeakably significant. Clothes, from the King's mantle down'wards, are Emblematic, not of want only, but of a manifold 'cunning Victory over Want. On the other hand, all Emblem'atic things are properly Clothes, thought-woven or hand-woven :

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'must not the Imagination weave Garments, visible Bodies, wherein the else invisible creations and inspirations of our Reason are, like Spirits, revealed, and first become all-powerful'the rather if, as we often see, the Hand too aid her, and (by 'wool Clothes or otherwise) reveal such even to the outward 'eye?

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Men are properly said to be clothed with Authority, clothed with Beauty, with Curses, and the like. Nay, if you consider 'it, what is Man himself, and his whole terrestrial Life, but an 'Emblem; a Clothing or visible Garment for that divine ME of 'his, cast hither, like a night-particle, down from Heaven? Thus 'is he said also to be clothed with a Body.

'Language is called the Garment of Thought: however, it 'should rather be, Language is the Flesh-Garment, the Body, of 'Thought. I said that Imagination wove this Flesh-Garment; 'and does she not? Metaphors are her stuff: examine Lan'guage; what, if you except some few primitive elements (of 'natural sound), what is it all but Metaphors, recognised as such, or no longer recognised: still fluid and florid, or now solid'grown and colourless? If those same primitive elements are the osseous fixtures in the Flesh-Garment, Language,--then are 'Metaphors its muscles and tissues and living integuments. An 'unmetaphorical style you shall in vain seek for: is not your very Attention a Stretching-to? The difference lies here: some styles 'are lean, adust, wiry, the muscle itself seems osseous; some are 'even quite pallid, hunger-bitten, and dead-looking; while others 'again glow in the flush of health and vigorous self-growth, some'times (as in my own case) not without an apoplectic tendency. 'Moreover, there are sham Metaphors, which overhanging that 'same Thought's-Body (best naked), and deceptively bedizening, or bolstering it out, may be called its false stuffings, superfluous 'show-cloaks (Putz-Mäntel), and tawdry woolen rags: whereof 'he that runs and reads may gather whole hampers,--and burn 'them.'

Than which paragraph on Metaphors did the reader ever chance to see a more surprisingly metaphorical? However, that is not our chief grievance; the Professor continues:

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Why multiply instances? It is written, the Heavens and

'the Earth shall fade like a away Vesture; which indeed they ( are: the Time-vesture of the Eternal. hatsoever sensibly exists, whatsoever represents Spirit to Spirit, is properly a Clothing, a suit of Raiment, put on for a season, and to be laid off. Thus in this one pregnant subject of CLOTHES, rightly understood, is included all that men have thought, dreamed, 'done and been the whole External Universe and what it holds 'is but Clothing; and the essence of all Science lies in the PHILOSOPHY OF CLOTHES.'

Towards these dim infinitely-expanded regions, close-bordering on the impalpable Inane, it is not without apprehension, and perpetual difficulties, that the Editor sees himself journeying and struggling. Till lately a cheerful daystar of hope hung before him, in the expected Aid of Hofrath Heuschrecke; which daystar, however, melts now, (not into the red of morning, but into a vague, gray half-light, uncertain whether dawn of day or dusk of utter darkness. For the last week, these so-called Biographical Documents are in his hand. By the kindness of a Scottish Hamburgh Merchant, whose name, known to the whole mercantile world, he must not mention; but whose honourable courtesy, now and often before spontaneously manifested to him, a mere literary stranger, he cannot soon forget,-the bulky Weissnichtwo Packet, with all its Customhouse seals, foreign hieroglyphs, and miscellaneous tokens of Travel, arrived here in perfect safety, and free of cost. The reader shall now fancy with what hot haste it was broken up, with what breathless expectation glanced over; and, alas, with what unquiet disappointment it has, since then, been often thrown down, and again taken up.

Hofrath Heuschrecke, in a too long-winded Letter, full of compliments, Weissnichtwo politics, dinners, dining repartees, and other ephemeral trivialities, proceeds to remind us of what we knew well already: that however it may be with Metaphysics, and other abstract Science originating in the Head (Verstand) alone, no Life Philosophy (Lebensphilosophie), such as this of Clothes pretends to be, which originates equally in the Character (Gemüth), and equally speaks thereto, can attain its significance till the Character itself is known and seen; 'till the Author's View of the World (Weltansicht), and how he actively and pas

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'sively came by such view, are clear: in short till a Biography
' of him has been philosophico-poetically written, and philosophico-scientifi
'poetically read.' 'Nay,' adds he, were the speculative scineitfic
'Truth even known, you still, in this inquiring age, ask yourself,
'Whence came it, and Why, and How?—and rest not, till, if no
'better may be, (Fancy have shaped out an answer; and either
' in the authentic lineaments of Fact, or the forged ones of Fic-
'tion, a complete picture and Genetical History of the Man and
'his spiritual Endeavour lies before But why,' says the

6 Hofrath, and indeed say we, 6 do
on the uses of our
'Teufelsdröckh's Biography? The great Herr Minister von
'Goethe has penetratingly remarked that "Man is properly the
'only object that interests man:" thus I too have noted, that
"in Weissnichtwo our whole conversation is little or nothing else
'but Biography or Autobiography; ever humano-anecdotical
' (menschlich-anecdotisch). Biography is by nature the most uni-
'versally profitable, universally pleasant of all things: especially
'Biography of distinguished individuals.

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By this time, mein Verehrtester (my Most Esteemed),' continues he, with an eloquence which, unless the words be purloined from Teufelsdröckh, or some trick of his, as we suspect, is well nigh unaccountable, ' by this time you are fairly plunged (verteift) ' in that mighty forest of Clothes-Philosophy; and looking round, 'as all readers do, with astonishment enough. Such portions 'and passages as you have already mastered, and brought to paper, could not but awaken a strange curiosity touching the 'mind they issued from; the perhaps unparalleled psychical 'mechanism, which manufactured such matter, and emitted it to 'the light of day. Had Teufelsdröckh also a father and mother; 'did he, at one time, wear drivel-bibs, and live on spoon-meat? 'Did he ever, in rapture and tears, clasp a friend's bosom to his; 'looks he also wistfully into the long burial-aisle of the Past, 'where only winds, and their low harsh moan, give inarticulate 'answer? Has he fought duels;-good Heaven! how did he 'comport himself when in Love? By what singular stair-steps, 'in, short, and subterranean passages, and sloughs of Despair, 'and steep Pisgah hills, has he reached this wonderful prophetic 'Hebron (a true Old-Clothes Jewry) where he now dwells?