h
indeed, with the Night they were uttered in, are to be forever
remembered. Lifting his huge tumbler of _Gukguk_, [*] and for a moment
lowering his tobacco-pipe, he stood up in full Coffee-house (it was _Zur
Grunen Gans_, the largest in Weissnichtwo, where all the Virtuosity,
and nearly all the Intellect of the place assembled of an evening); and
there, with low, soul-stirring tone, and the look truly of an angel,
though whether of a white or of a black one might be dubious, proposed
this toast: _Die Sache der Armen in Gottes und Teufels Namen_ (The Cause
of the Poor, in Heaven's name and--'s)! One full shout, breaking the
leaden silence; then a gurgle of innumerable emptying bumpers, again
followed by universal cheering, returned him loud acclaim. It was the
finale of the night: resuming their pipes; in the highest enthusiasm,
amid volumes of tobacco-smoke; triumphant, cloud-capt without and
within, the assembly broke up, each to his thoughtful pillow. _Bleibt
doch ein echter Spass_- _und Galgen-vogel_, said several; meaning
thereby that, one day, he would probably be hanged for his democratic
sentiments. _Wo steckt doch der Schalk_? added they, looking round: but
Teufelsdrockh had retired by private alleys, and the Compiler of these
pages beheld him no more.

* Gukguk is unhappily only an academical-beer.

In such scenes has it been our lot to live with this Philosopher,
such estimate to form of his purposes and powers. And yet, thou brave
Teufelsdrockh, who could tell what lurked in thee? Under those thick
locks of thine, so long and lank, overlapping roof-wise the gravest face
we ever in this world saw, there dwelt a most busy brain. In thy eyes
too, deep under their shaggy brows, and looking out so still and dreamy,
have we not noticed gleams of an ethereal or else a diabolic fire, and
half fancied that their stillness was but the rest of infinite motion,
the _sleep_ of a spinning-top? Thy little figure, there as, in loose
ill-brushed threadbare habiliments, thou sattest, amid litter and
lumber, whole days, to "think and smoke tobacco," held in it a mighty
heart. The secrets of man's Life were laid open to thee; thou sawest
into the mystery of the Universe, farther than another; thou hadst _in
petto_ thy remarkable Volume on Clothes. Nay, was there not in that
clear logically founded Transcendentalism of thine; still more, in thy
meek, silent, deep-seated Sansculottism, combined with a true princely
Courtes