ee-house would hush itself into
silence, as if sure to hear something noteworthy. Nay, perhaps to hear
a whole series and river of the most memorable utterances; such as,
when once thawed, he would for hours indulge in, with fit audience:
and the more memorable, as issuing from a head apparently not more
interested in them, not more conscious of them, than is the sculptured
stone head of some public fountain, which through its brass mouth-tube
emits water to the worthy and the unworthy; careless whether it be for
cooking victuals or quenching conflagrations; indeed, maintains the
same earnest assiduous look, whether any water be flowing or not.

To the Editor of these sheets, as to a young enthusiastic Englishman,
however unworthy, Teufelsdroeckh opened himself perhaps more than to
the most. Pity only that we could not then half guess his importance,
and scrutinise him with due power of vision! We enjoyed, what not
three men in Weissnichtwo could boast of, a certain degree of access
to the Professor's private domicile. It was the attic floor of the
highest house in the Wahngasse; and might truly be called the pinnacle
of Weissnichtwo, for it rose sheer up above the contiguous roofs,
themselves rising from elevated ground. Moreover, with its windows it
looked towards all the four _Orte_, or as the Scotch say, and we ought
to say, _Airts_: the sitting-room itself commanded three; another came
to view in the _Schlafgemach_ (bedroom) at the opposite end; to say
nothing of the kitchen, which offered two, as it were, _duplicates_,
and showing nothing new. So that it was in fact the speculum or
watch-tower of Teufelsdroeckh; wherefrom, sitting at ease, he might see
the whole life-circulation of that considerable City; the streets and
lanes of which, with all their doing and driving (_Thun und Treiben_),
were for the most part visible there.

"I look down into all that wasp-nest or bee-hive," have we heard him
say, "and witness their wax-laying and honey-making, and
poison-brewing, and choking by sulphur. From the Palace esplanade,
where music plays while Serene Highness is pleased to eat his
victuals, down to the low lane, where in her door-sill the aged widow,
knitting for a thin livelihood, sits to feel the afternoon sun, I see
it all; for, except the Schlosskirche weathercock, no biped stands so
high. Couriers arrive bestrapped and bebooted, bearing Joy and Sorrow
bagged-up in pouches of leather: there, top-laden, and with