y of inward nature, the visible rudiments of such speculation?
But great men are too often unknown, or what is worse, misknown.
Already, when we dreamed not of it, the warp of thy remarkable Volume
lay on the loom; and silently, mysterious shuttles were putting in the
woof.

How the Hofrath Heuschrecke is to furnish biographical data, in this
case, may be a curious question; the answer of which, however, is
happily not our concern, but his. To us it appeared, after repeated
trial, that in Weissnichtwo, from the archives or memories of the
best-informed classes, no Biography of Teufelsdrockh was to be gathered;
not so much as a false one. He was a stranger there, wafted thither by
what is called the course of circumstances; concerning whose parentage,
birthplace, prospects, or pursuits, curiosity had indeed made inquiries,
but satisfied herself with the most indistinct replies. For himself, he
was a man so still and altogether unparticipating, that to question
him even afar off on such particulars was a thing of more than usual
delicacy: besides, in his sly way, he had ever some quaint turn, not
without its satirical edge, wherewith to divert such intrusions, and
deter you from the like. Wits spoke of him secretly as if he were a kind
of Melchizedek, without father or mother of any kind; sometimes, with
reference to his great historic and statistic knowledge, and the
vivid way he had of expressing himself like an eye-witness of distant
transactions and scenes, they called him the _Ewige Jude_, Everlasting,
or as we say, Wandering Jew.

To the most, indeed, he had become not so much a Man as a Thing; which
Thing doubtless they were accustomed to see, and with satisfaction;
but no more thought of accounting for than for the fabrication of their
daily _Allgemeine Zeitung_, or the domestic habits of the Sun. Both were
there and welcome; the world enjoyed what good was in them, and thought
no more of the matter. The man Teufelsdrockh passed and repassed, in his
little circle, as one of those originals and nondescripts, more frequent
in German Universities than elsewhere; of whom, though you see them
alive, and feel certain enough that they must have a History, no History
seems to be discoverable; or only such as men give of mountain rocks and
antediluvian ruins: That they have been created by unknown agencies,
are in a state of gradual decay, and for the present reflect light
and resist pressure; that is, are visible and t