icity, or accident of fire, it has exploded? A hapless
air-navigator, plunging, amid torn parachutes, sand-bags, and confused
wreck, fast enough into the jaws of the Devil! Suffice it to know
that Teufelsdrockh rose into the highest regions of the Empyrean, by a
natural parabolic track, and returned thence in a quick perpendicular
one. For the rest, let any feeling reader, who has been unhappy enough
to do the like, paint it out for himself: considering only that if he,
for his perhaps comparatively insignificant mistress, underwent such
agonies and frenzies, what must Teufelsdrockh's have been, with a
fire-heart, and for a nonpareil Blumine! We glance merely at the final
scene:--

"One morning, he found his Morning-star all dimmed and dusky-red; the
fair creature was silent, absent, she seemed to have been weeping. Alas,
no longer a Morning-star, but a troublous skyey Portent, announcing that
the Doomsday had dawned! She said, in a tremulous voice, They were to
meet no more." The thunder-struck Air-sailor is not wanting to
himself in this dread hour: but what avails it? We omit the passionate
expostulations, entreaties, indignations, since all was vain, and not
even an explanation was conceded him; and hasten to the catastrophe.
"'Farewell, then, Madam!' said he, not without sternness, for his stung
pride helped him. She put her hand in his, she looked in his face, tears
started to her eyes; in wild audacity he clasped her to his bosom;
their lips were joined, their two souls, like two dew-drops, rushed into
one,--for the first time and for the last!" Thus was Teufelsdrockh made
immortal by a kiss. And then? Why, then--"thick curtains of Night rushed
over his soul, as rose the immeasurable Crash of Doom; and through the
ruins as of a shivered Universe was he falling, falling, towards the
Abyss."

CHAPTER VI. SORROWS OF TEUFELSDROCKH.

We have long felt that, with a man like our Professor, matters must
often be expected to take a course of their own; that in so multiplex,
intricate a nature, there might be channels, both for admitting and
emitting, such as the Psychologist had seldom noted; in short, that on
no grand occasion and convulsion, neither in the joy-storm nor in the
woe-storm could you predict his demeanor.

To our less philosophical readers, for example, it is now clear that the
so passionate Teufelsdrockh precipitated through "a shivered Universe"
in this extraordinary way, has only one of three thing