sartor resartus-第42部分

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　stroke　than　if　the　last　ball　only　had　been　struck；　and　sent　flying？　　Oh；　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　Light…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　God　still　beams。　　But　Nature；　which　is　the　Time…vesture　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　Doctor　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　I　say；　sweep　away　the　illusion　of　Time；　compress　the　threescore　years　into　three　minutes：　　what　else　was　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　scientific　_fact_：　we　start　out　of　Nothingness；　take　figure；　and　are　Apparitions；　round　us；　as　round　the　veriest　spectre；　is　Eternity；　and　to　Eternity　minutes　are　as　years　and　aeons。　　Come　there　not　tones　of　Love　and　Faith；　as　from　celestial　harp…strings；　like　the　Song　of　beatified　Souls？　　And　again；　do　not　we　squeak　and　gibber　（in　our　discordant；　screech…owlish　debatings　and　recriminatings）；　and　glide　bodeful；　and　feeble；　and　fearful；　or　uproar　（_poltern_）；　and　revel　in　our　mad　Dance　of　the　Dead；till　the　scent　of　the　morning　air　summons　us　to　our　still　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；　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…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　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　revealed　in　the　Flesh。　　That　warrior　on　his　strong　war…horse；　fire　flashes　through　his　eyes；　force　dwells　in　his　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　but　a　film；　it　cracks　in　twain；　and　warrior　and　war…horse　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。

〃So　has　it　been　from　the　beginning；　so　will　it　be　to　the　end。　　Generation　after　generation　takes　to　itself　the　Form　of　a　Body；　and　forth　issuing　from　Cimmerian　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　heights　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。　　Thus；　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　footprint　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　_are　such　stuff_　　　　　　As　Dreams　are　made　of；　and　our　little　Life　　　　　　Is　rounded　with　a　sleep！'〃


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　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　wrappages；　begin　in　any　measure　to　reveal　itself？　Can　many　readers　discern；　as　through　a　glass　darkly；　in　huge　wavering　outlines；　some　primeval　rudiments　of　Man's　Being；　what　is　changeable　divided　from　what　is　unchangeable？　　Does　that　Earth…Spirit's　speech　in　_Faust_；

　　　　　〃'Tis　thus　at　the　roaring　Loom　of　Time　I　ply；　　　　　　And　weave　for　God　the　Garment　thou　seest　Him　by；　〃

or　that　other　thousand…times　repeated　speech　of　the　Magician；　Shakespeare；

　　　　　〃And　like　the　baseless　fabric　of　this　vision；　　　　　　The　cloud…capt　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；〃

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　possible；　is　seen　to　be　inevitable？

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　construct；　only；　as　was　said；　some　zigzag　series　of　rafts　floating　tumultuously　thereon。　　Alas；　and　the　leaps　from　raft　to　raft　were　too　often　of　a　breakneck　character；　the　darkness；　the　nature　of　the　element；　all　was　against　us！

Nevertheless；　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　degrees；　the　eye　grows　accustomed　to　its　new　Whereabout；　the　hand　can　stretch　itself　forth　to　work　there：　　it　is　in　this　grand　and　indeed　highest　work　of　Palingenesia　that　ye　shall　labor；　each　according　to　ability。　　New　laborers　will　arrive；　new　Bridges　will　be　built；　nay；　may　not　our　own　poor　rope…and…raft　Bridge；　in　your　passings　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　innumerable　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…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　us；　can　it　be　hidden　from　the　Editor　that　many　a　British　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　all　this　lead；　or　what　use　is　in　it？

In　the　way　of　replenishing　thy　purse；　or　otherwise　aiding　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　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…Pertuis_；　thou　lookest；　even　for　moments；　into　the　region　of　the　Wonderful；　and　seest　and　feelest　that　thy　daily　life　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　that　same。

Nay　farther；　art　not　thou　too　perhaps　by　this　time　made　aware　that　all　Symbols　are　properly　Clothes；　that　all　Forms　whereby　Spirit　manifests　itself　to　sense；　whether　outwardly　or　in　the　imagination；　are　Clothes；　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　（Worth…ships）　are　properly　a　Vesture　and　Raiment；　and　the　Thirty…nine　Articles　themselves　are　articles　of　wearing…apparel　（for　the　Religious　Idea）？　　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　scientific　rank　beside　Codification；　and　Political　Economy；　and　the　Theory　of　the　British　Constit