Sartor Resartus: The Life and Opinions of Herr Teufelsdröckh

by Thomas Carlyle

  CHAPTER VIII. CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE.

  Though, after this "Baphometic Fire-baptism" of his, our Wanderersignifies that his Unrest was but increased; as, indeed, "Indignationand Defiance," especially against things in general, are not the mostpeaceable inmates; yet can the Psychologist surmise that it was nolonger a quite hopeless Unrest; that henceforth it had at least a fixedcentre to revolve round. For the fire-baptized soul, long so scathedand thunder-riven, here feels its own Freedom, which feeling is itsBaphometic Baptism: the citadel of its whole kingdom it has thusgained by assault, and will keep inexpugnable; outwards from which theremaining dominions, not indeed without hard battling, will doubtlessby degrees be conquered and pacificated. Under another figure, we mightsay, if in that great moment, in the _Rue Saint-Thomas de l'Enfer_, theold inward Satanic School was not yet thrown out of doors, it receivedperemptory judicial notice to quit;--whereby, for the rest, itshowl-chantings, Ernulphus-cursings, and rebellious gnashings of teeth,might, in the mean while, become only the more tumultuous, and difficultto keep secret.

  Accordingly, if we scrutinize these Pilgrimings well, there is perhapsdiscernible henceforth a certain incipient method in their madness. Notwholly as a Spectre does Teufelsdrockh now storm through the world;at worst as a spectra-fighting Man, nay who will one day be aSpectre-queller. If pilgriming restlessly to so many "Saints' Wells,"and ever without quenching of his thirst, he nevertheless finds littlesecular wells, whereby from time to time some alleviation is ministered.In a word, he is now, if not ceasing, yet intermitting to "eat his ownheart;" and clutches round him outwardly on the NOT-ME for wholesomerfood. Does not the following glimpse exhibit him in a much more naturalstate?

  "Towns also and Cities, especially the ancient, I failed not to lookupon with interest. How beautiful to see thereby, as through a longvista, into the remote Time; to have, as it were, an actual section ofalmost the earliest Past brought safe into the Present, and set beforeyour eyes! There, in that old City, was a live ember of Culinary Fireput down, say only two thousand years ago; and there, burning more orless triumphantly, with such fuel as the region yielded, it has burnt,and still burns, and thou thyself seest the very smoke thereof. Ah! andthe far more mysterious live ember of Vital Fire was then also put downthere; and still miraculously burns and spreads; and the smoke andashes thereof (in these Judgment-Halls and Churchyards), and itsbellows-engines (in these Churches), thou still seest; and its flame,looking out from every kind countenance, and every hateful one, stillwarms thee or scorches thee.

  "Of Man's Activity and Attainment the chief results are aeriform,mystic, and preserved in Tradition only: such are his Forms ofGovernment, with the Authority they rest on; his Customs, or Fashionsboth of Cloth-habits and of Soul-habits; much more his collectivestock of Handicrafts, the whole Faculty he has acquired of manipulatingNature: all these things, as indispensable and priceless as theyare, cannot in any way be fixed under lock and key, but must flit,spirit-like, on impalpable vehicles, from Father to Son; if you demandsight of them, they are nowhere to be met with. Visible Ploughmen andHammermen there have been, ever from Cain and Tubal-cain downwards:but where does your accumulated Agricultural, Metallurgic, andother Manufacturing SKILL lie warehoused? It transmits itself on theatmospheric air, on the sun's rays (by Hearing and by Vision); it is athing aeriform, impalpable, of quite spiritual sort. In like manner, askme not, Where are the LAWS; where is the GOVERNMENT? In vain wilt thougo to Schonbrunn, to Downing Street, to the Palais Bourbon; thou findestnothing there but brick or stone houses, and some bundles of Paperstied with tape. Where, then, is that same cunningly devised almightyGOVERNMENT of theirs to be laid hands on? Everywhere, yet nowhere: seenonly in its works, this too is a thing aeriform, invisible; or if youwill, mystic and miraculous. So spiritual (_geistig_) is our whole dailyLife: all that we do springs out of Mystery, Spirit, invisible Force;only like a little Cloud-image, or Armida's Palace, air-built, does theActual body itself forth from the great mystic Deep.

  "Visible and tangible products of the Past, again, I reckon up to theextent of three: Cities, with their Cabinets and Arsenals; then tilledFields, to either or to both of which divisions Roads with their Bridgesmay belong; and thirdly--Books. In which third truly, the last invented,lies a worth far surpassing that of the two others. Wondrous indeedis the virtue of a true Book. Not like a dead city of stones, yearlycrumbling, yearly needing repair; more like a tilled field, but thena spiritual field: like a spiritual tree, let me rather say, it standsfrom year to year, and from age to age (we have Books that alreadynumber some hundred and fifty human ages); and yearly comes its newproduce of leaves (Commentaries, Deductions, Philosophical, PoliticalSystems; or were it only Sermons, Pamphlets, Journalistic Essays), everyone of which is talismanic and thaumaturgic, for it can persuade men.O thou who art able to write a Book, which once in the two centuriesor oftener there is a man gifted to do, envy not him whom they nameCity-builder, and inexpressibly pity him whom they name Conqueror orCity-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 marbleand metal, and be a wonder-bringing City of the Mind, a Temple andSeminary and Prophetic Mount, whereto all kindreds of the Earth willpilgrim.--Fool! why journeyest thou wearisomely, in thy antiquarianfervor, to gaze on the stone pyramids of Geeza, or the clay ones ofSacchara? These stand there, as I can tell thee, idle and inert, lookingover the Desert, foolishly enough, for the last three thousand years:but canst thou not open thy Hebrew BIBLE, then, or even Luther's Versionthereof?"

  No less satisfactory is his sudden appearance not in Battle, yet on someBattle-field; which, we soon gather, must be that of Wagram; so thathere, 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 men and horses; stragglers stillremaining not so much as buried. And those red mould heaps; ay, therelie the Shells of Men, out of which all the Life and Virtue has beenblown; and now are they swept together, and crammed down out of sight,like blown Egg-shells!--Did Nature, when she bade the Donau bring downhis mould-cargoes from the Carinthian and Carpathian Heights, andspread them out here into the softest, richest level,--intend thee, OMarchfeld, for a corn-bearing Nursery, whereon her children might benursed; or for a Cockpit, wherein they might the more commodiously bethrottled and tattered? Were thy three broad Highways, meeting here fromthe ends of Europe, made for Ammunition-wagons, then? Were thy Wagramsand Stillfrieds but so many ready-built Casemates, wherein the house ofHapsburg 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 fivecenturies, to omit the others, how has thy breast, fair Plain, beendefaced and defiled! The greensward is torn up and trampled down; man'sfond 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 Skulls.--Nevertheless, Nature is at work; neither shallthese Powder-Devilkins with their utmost devilry gainsay her: but allthat gore and carnage will be shrouded in, absorbed into manure; andnext year the Marchfeld will be green, nay greener. Thrifty unweariedNature, ever out of our great waste educing some little profit of thyown,--how dost thou, from the very carcass of the Killer, bring Life forthe Living!

  "What, speaking in quite unofficial language, is the net purport andupshot 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 aresuccessively selected, during the French war, say thirty able-bodiedmen; Dumdrudge, at her own expense, has suckled and nursed them: shehas, not without difficulty and sorrow, fed them up to manhood, and eventrained them to crafts, so that one can weave, another build, anotherhammer, and the weakest can stand under thirty stone avoirdupois.Nevertheless, amid much weeping a
nd swearing, they are selected; alldressed in red; and shipped away, at the public charges, some twothousand miles, or say only to the south of Spain; and fed there tillwanted. And now to that same spot, in the south of Spain, are thirtysimilar French artisans, from a French Dumdrudge, in like mannerwending: till at length, after infinite effort, the two parties comeinto actual juxtaposition; and Thirty stands fronting Thirty, each witha gun in his hand. Straightaway the word 'Fire!' is given; and theyblow the souls out of one another; and in place of sixty brisk usefulcraftsmen, the world has sixty dead carcasses, which it must bury, andanew shed tears for. Had these men any quarrel? Busy as the Devilis, not the smallest! They lived far enough apart; were the entireststrangers; nay, in so wide a Universe, there was even, unconsciously,by Commerce, some mutual helpfulness between them. How then? Simpleton!their Governors had fallen out; and instead of shooting one another,had the cunning to make these poor blockheads shoot.--Alas, so is itin Deutschland, and hitherto in all other lands; still as of old,'what devilry soever Kings do, the Greeks must pay the piper!'--In thatfiction of the English Smollett, it is true, the final Cessation of Waris perhaps prophetically shadowed forth; where the two Natural Enemies,in person, take each a Tobacco-pipe, filled with Brimstone; light thesame, and smoke in one another's faces, till the weaker gives in:but from such predicted Peace-Era, what blood-filled trenches, andcontentious centuries, may still divide us!"

  Thus can the Professor, at least in lucid intervals, look away from hisown sorrows, over the many-colored world, and pertinently enough notewhat is passing there. We may remark, indeed, that for the matter ofspiritual culture, if for nothing else, perhaps few periods of hislife were richer than this. Internally, there is the most momentousinstructive Course of Practical Philosophy, with Experiments, goingon; towards the right comprehension of which his Peripatetic habits,favorable to Meditation, might help him rather than hinder. Externally,again, as he wanders to and fro, there are, if for the longing heartlittle substance, yet for the seeing eye sights enough in these soboundless Travels of his, granting that the Satanic School was evenpartially kept down, what an incredible knowledge of our Planet, andits Inhabitants and their Works, that is to say, of all knowable things,might not Teufelsdrockh acquire!

  "I have read in most Public Libraries," says he, "including those ofConstantinople and Samarcand: in most Colleges, except the ChineseMandarin ones, I have studied, or seen that there was no studying.Unknown Languages have I oftenest gathered from their natural repertory,the Air, by my organ of Hearing; Statistics, Geographics, Topographicscame, through the Eye, almost of their own accord. The ways of Man, howhe seeks food, and warmth, and protection for himself, in most regions,are ocularly known to me. Like the great Hadrian, I meted out much ofthe terraqueous Globe with a pair of Compasses that belonged to myselfonly.

  "Of great Scenes why speak? Three summer days, I lingered reflecting,and even composing (_dichtete_), by the Pine-chasms of Vaucluse; and inthat clear Lakelet moistened my bread. I have sat under the Palm-treesof Tadmor; smoked a pipe among the ruins of Babylon. The great Wall ofChina I have seen; and can testify that it is of gray brick, coped andcovered with granite, and shows only second-rate masonry.--Great Events,also, have not I witnessed? Kings sweated down (_ausgemergelt_) intoBerlin-and-Milan Customhouse-Officers; the World well won, and the Worldwell lost; oftener than once a hundred thousand individuals shot (byeach other) in one day. All kindreds and peoples and nations dashedtogether, and shifted and shovelled into heaps, that they might fermentthere, and in time unite. The birth-pangs of Democracy, wherewithconvulsed Europe was groaning in cries that reached Heaven, could notescape me.

  "For great Men I have ever had the warmest predilection; and can perhapsboast that few such in this era have wholly escaped me. Great Menare the inspired (speaking and acting) Texts of that divine BOOK OFREVELATIONS, whereof a Chapter is completed from epoch to epoch, and bysome named HISTORY; to which inspired Texts your numerous talented men,and your innumerable untalented men, are the better or worse exegeticCommentaries, and wagon-load of too-stupid, heretical or orthodox,weekly Sermons. For my study, the inspired Texts themselves! Thus didnot I, in very early days, having disguised me as tavern-waiter, standbehind the field-chairs, under that shady Tree at Treisnitz by the JenaHighway; waiting upon the great Schiller and greater Goethe; and hearingwhat I have not forgotten. For--"

  --But at this point the Editor recalls his principle of caution, sometime ago laid down, and must suppress much. Let not the sacredness ofLaurelled, still more, of Crowned Heads, be tampered with. Should we,at a future day, find circumstances altered, and the time come forPublication, then may these glimpses into the privacy of the Illustriousbe conceded; which for the present were little better than treacherous,perhaps traitorous Eavesdroppings. Of Lord Byron, therefore, of PopePius, Emperor Tarakwang, and the "White Water-roses" (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 tohave been of very varied character. At first we find our poorProfessor on the point of being shot as a spy; then taken into privateconversation, even pinched on the ear, yet presented with no money;at last indignantly dismissed, almost thrown out of doors, as an"Ideologist." "He himself," says the Professor, "was among thecompletest Ideologists, at least Ideopraxists: in the Idea (_in derIdee_) 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, _La carriere ouverte aux talens_ (The Tools to himthat can handle them), which is our ultimate Political Evangel,wherein alone can liberty lie. Madly enough he preached, it is true, asEnthusiasts 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 fellunpenetrated forests, and battle with innumerable wolves, and didnot entirely forbear strong liquor, rioting, and even theft; whom,notwithstanding, the peaceful Sower will follow, and, as he cuts theboundless harvest, bless."

  More legitimate and decisively authentic is Teufelsdrockh's appearanceand emergence (we know not well whence) in the solitude of the NorthCape, on that June Midnight. He has a "light-blue Spanish cloak"hanging round him, as his "most commodious, principal, indeed soleupper-garment;" and stands there, on the World-promontory, lookingover the infinite Brine, like a little blue Belfry (as we figure), nowmotionless indeed, yet ready, if stirred, to ring quaintest changes.

  "Silence as of death," writes he; "for Midnight, even in theArctic latitudes, has its character: nothing but the granite cliffsruddy-tinged, the peaceable gurgle of that slow-heaving Polar Ocean,over which in the utmost North the great Sun hangs low and lazy, as ifhe too were slumbering. Yet is his cloud-couch wrought of crimson andcloth-of-gold; yet does his light stream over the mirror of waters,like a tremulous fire-pillar, shooting downwards to the abyss, and hideitself under my feet. In such moments, Solitude also is invaluable; forwho would speak, or be looked on, when behind him lies all Europe andAfrica, fast asleep, except the watchmen; and before him the silentImmensity, and Palace of the Eternal, whereof our Sun is but aporch-lamp?

  "Nevertheless, in this solemn moment comes a man, or monster, scramblingfrom among the rock-hollows; and, shaggy, huge as the HyperboreanBear, hails me in Russian speech: most probably, therefore, a RussianSmuggler. With courteous brevity, I signify my indifference tocontraband trade, my humane intentions, yet strong wish to be private.In vain: the monster, counting doubtless on his superior stature,and minded to make sport for himself, or perhaps profit, were it withmurder, continues to advance; ever assailing me with his importunatetrain-oil breath; and now has advanced, till we stand both on the vergeof the rock, the deep Sea rippling greedily down below. What argumentwill avail? On the thick Hyperborean, cherubic reasoning, seraphiceloquence were lost. Prepared for such extremity, I, deftly enough,whisk aside one step; draw out, from my interior reservoirs, asufficient Birmingham Horse-pistol, and say
, 'Be so obliging as retire,Friend (_Er ziehe sich zuruck, Freund_), and with promptitude!' Thislogic even the Hyperborean understands: fast enough, with apologetic,petitionary growl, he sidles off; and, except for suicidal as well ashomicidal purposes, need not return.

  "Such I hold to be the genuine use of Gunpowder: that it makes all menalike tall. Nay, if thou be cooler, cleverer than I, if thou have more_Mind_, though all but no _Body_ whatever, then canst thou kill mefirst, and art the taller. Hereby, at last, is the Goliath powerless,and the David resistless; savage Animalism is nothing, inventiveSpiritualism is all.

  "With respect to Duels, indeed, I have my own ideas. Few things, in thisso surprising world, strike me with more surprise. Two little visualSpectra of men, hovering with insecure enough cohesion in the midst ofthe UNFATHOMABLE, and to dissolve therein, at any rate, very soon,--makepause at the distance of twelve paces asunder; whirl round; and,simultaneously by the cunningest mechanism, explode one another intoDissolution; and off-hand become Air, and Non-extant! Deuce on it(_verdammt_), the little spitfires!--Nay, I think with old Hugo vonTrimberg: 'God must needs laugh outright, could such a thing be, to seehis wondrous Manikins here below.'"

  But amid these specialties, let us not forget the great generality,which is our chief quest here: How prospered the inner man ofTeufelsdrockh, under so much outward shifting! Does Legion still lurkin him, though repressed; or has he exorcised that Devil's Brood? Wecan answer that the symptoms continue promising. Experience is thegrand spiritual Doctor; and with him Teufelsdrockh has now been long apatient, swallowing many a bitter bolus. Unless our poor Friend belongto the numerous class of Incurables, which seems not likely, some curewill doubtless be effected. We should rather say that Legion, or theSatanic School, was now pretty well extirpated and cast out, but nextto nothing introduced in its room; whereby the heart remains, for thewhile, in a quiet but no comfortable state.

  "At length, after so much roasting," thus writes our Autobiographer, "Iwas what you might name calcined. Pray only that it be not rather, as isthe more frequent issue, reduced to a _caput-mortuum_! But in anycase, by mere dint of practice, I had grown familiar with many things.Wretchedness was still wretched; but I could now partly see through it,and despise it. Which highest mortal, in this inane Existence, had I notfound a Shadow-hunter, or Shadow-hunted; and, when I looked through hisbrave garnitures, miserable enough? Thy wishes have all been sniffedaside, thought I: but what, had they even been all granted! Did not theBoy Alexander weep because he had not two Planets to conquer; or a wholeSolar System; or after that, a whole Universe? _Ach Gott_, when I gazedinto these Stars, have they not looked down on me as if with pity, fromtheir serene spaces; like Eyes glistening with heavenly tears over thelittle lot of man! Thousands of human generations, all as noisy as ourown, have been swallowed up of Time, and there remains no wreck of themany more; and Arcturus and Orion and Sirius and the Pleiades are stillshining in their courses, clear and young, as when the Shepherd firstnoted them in the plain of Shinar. Pshaw! what is this paltry littleDog-cage of an Earth; what art thou that sittest whining there? Thou artstill Nothing, Nobody: true; but who, then, is Something, Somebody? Forthee the Family of Man has no use; it rejects thee; thou art wholly as adissevered limb: so be it; perhaps it is better so!"

  Too-heavy-laden Teufelsdrockh! Yet surely his bands are loosening; oneday he will hurl the burden far from him, and bound forth free and witha second youth.

  "This," says our Professor, "was the CENTRE OF INDIFFERENCE I had nowreached; through which whoso travels from the Negative Pole to thePositive must necessarily pass."