e was, as the gossip had put it, in the clouds, intent on the riddles
his learning had rendered only the more complex, riddles having to do
with the nature of the universe and with man's place in the universe.
Nor did he rouse himself from his meditations until the door of the inn
had closed behind him and he found himself in its common room. Then he
became the Emanuel Swedenborg of benignity, geniality, and courtesy, the
Swedenborg whom all men loved.

"I am going to my room," said he to the innkeeper, in charming, broken
English, "and I wish to be served there. I find I am very hungry; so see
that you spare not."

While he is standing at the window, waiting for his dinner, and gazing
abstractedly into the ill-paved, muddy street illumined by a transitory
gleam of April sunshine, let us try to gain a closer view of him than
that afforded by the brief account of his unrecognized acquaintance. The
attempt will be worth while; for at this very moment he has, all
unconsciously, reached the great crisis of his life, and is about to
leave behind him the achievements of his earlier years, setting himself
instead to tasks of a very different nature. We see him, then, a man
nearing the age of sixty, of rather more than average height, smooth
shaven, bewigged, bespectacled, and scrupulously dressed according to
the fashion of the day. Time in its passing has dealt gently with him.
There is no stoop to his shoulders, no tremor in the fingers that play
restlessly on the window-pane. Not a wrinkle mars the placid features.

Well may he feel at peace with the world. His whole career has been a
steady progress, his record that of one who has attempted many things
and failed in few. Before he was twenty-one his learning had gained for
him a doctorate in philosophy. Then, enthusiastic, open-minded, and
open-eyed, he had hurried abroad, to pursue in England, Holland, France,
and Germany his chosen studies of mathematics, mechanics, and astronomy.
Returning to Sweden to assume the duties of assessor of mines, he
speedily proved that he was no mere theorizer, his inventive genius
enabling the warlike Charles XII. to transport overland galleys and
sloops for the siege of Frederikshald, sea passage being barred by
hostile fleets. Ennobled for this feat, he plunged with ardor into the
complicated problems of statecraft, problems rendered the more difficult
by the economic distress in which Charles's wars had involved his
Kingdom. Here agai