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"It was in some such mood, when wearied and foredone 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 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 boot-maker, jeweller, and man-milliner; he bounds free through the valleys, with a perennial rainproof court-suit on his 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 color, featly appended, and ever in the right place, are not wanting. While I-good heaven!-have thatched myself over 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 of nature, where they would have 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 the whole has been brushed thither, and I, the dustmaking, 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, 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 oblivion and stupidity, live at ease in the midst of wonders and terrors! But, indeed, man is, and was always, a blockhead and dullard; 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 life-time 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, without vestments, till he buy or steal such, and by forethought sew and button them.

"For my own part, these considerations, of our Clothesthatch, and how, reaches inwards even to our heart of hearts, it tailorizes and demoralizes us, fill me with a certain horror at myself and mankind; almost as one feels at those Dutch cows, which, during the wet season, you see grazing deliberately with jackets and petticoats (of striped sacking), in the meadows of Gouda. Nevertheless 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."

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 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 Teufelsdröckh, what benefits unspeakable all ages and sexes derive from Clothes. For example when thou thyself, a watery, pulpy, slobbery 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 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 pudding-cheek, and gave thee, as handsel, silver or copper 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 phenomenon 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: never rejoiced in them, as in a warm, moveable house, a body round thy body, wherein that strange THEE of thine sat snug, defying all variations of climate? Girt with thick double-milled kerseys; half buried under shawls and broadbrims, 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 they temples; it lighted 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 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 were thy element and propitiously wafting tide. Without Clothes, without bit or saddle, what hadst thou been; what had thy fleet quadruped been?-Nature is good, but she is not the best; here, truly, was the victory of art over nature. A thunderbolt, indeed, might have pierced thee; all short of this thou couldst defy.

Or, cries the courteous reader, has your Teufelsdröckh 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 well what he is saying; and both thou and we, in our haste, do him wrong. If Clothes in these times, "so tailorize and demoralize 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, Teufelsdröckh, though a Sansculottist, is no Adamite; 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, perhaps he has an insight into their more recondite, and almost mystic qualities, what we might call the omnipotent virtue of Clothes, such as was never before vouchsafed to any man. For example:

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Red

Blue hears

"You see two individuals," he writes, "one dressed in fine red, the other in coarse threadbare blue. says to blue, 'be hanged and anatomized.' with a shudder, and (O wonder of wonders!) marches sorrowfully to the gallows; is there noosed up, vibrates his hour, and the surgeons dissect him, and fit his bones into a skeleton for medical purposes. How is this; or what make ye of your nothing can act but where it is? Red has no physical hold of blue, no clutch of him, is nowise in contact with him. Neither are those ministering sheriffs and lord-lieutenants and hangmen and 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 is it done; the articulate word sets all

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