to Wonder; who, in these
days, so numerously patrol as night-constables about the Mechanics'
Institute of Science, and cackle, like true Old-Roman geese and
goslings round their Capitol, on any alarm, or on none; nay who often,
as illuminated Sceptics, walk abroad into peaceable society, in full
day-light, with rattle and lantern, and insist on guiding you and
guarding you therewith, though the Sun is shining, and the street
populous with mere justice-loving men': that whole class is
inexpressibly wearisome to him. Hear with what uncommon animation he
perorates:

'The man who cannot wonder, who does not habitually wonder (and
worship) were he President of innumerable Royal Societies, and carried
the whole _Mecanique Celeste_ and _Hegel's Philosophy_, and the
epitome of all Laboratories and Observatories with their results, in
his single head,--is but a Pair of Spectacles behind which there is no
Eye. Let those who have Eyes look through him, then he may be useful.

'Thou wilt have no Mystery and Mysticism; wilt walk through thy world
by the sunshine of what thou callest Truth, or even by the hand-lamp
of what I call Attorney-Logic; and "explain" all, "account" for all,
or believe nothing of it? Nay, thou wilt attempt laughter; whoso
recognises the unfathomable, all-pervading domain of Mystery, which is
everywhere under our feet and among our hands; to whom the Universe is
an Oracle and Temple, as well as a Kitchen and Cattlestall,--he shall
be a delirious Mystic; to him thou, with sniffing charity, wilt
protrusively proffer thy hand-lamp, and shriek, as one injured, when
he kicks his foot through it?--_Armer Teufel!_ Doth not thy cow calve,
doth not thy bull gender? Thou thyself, wert thou not born, wilt thou
not die? "Explain" me all this, 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 reign of wonder is done, and God's world
all disembellished and prosaic, but that thou hitherto art a
Dilettante and sandblind Pedant.'

CHAPTER XI

PROSPECTIVE

The Philosophy of Clothes is now to all readers, as we predicted it
would do, unfolding itself into new boundless expansions, of a
cloudclapt, almost chimerical aspect, yet not without azure loomings
in the far distance, and streaks as of an Elysian brightness; the
highly questionable purport and promise of which it is becoming more
and more important for us to ascertain. Is tha