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Sartor Resartus: the life and opinions of Herr Teufelsdrocke by Thomas Carlyle
page 16 of 256 (06%)
two, as it were, _duplicates_, showing nothing new. So that it was in fact
the speculum or watch-tower of Teufelsdrockh; 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," we have 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 Schlosskirche
weather-cock, 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 four swift horses, rolls in the country Baron and his
household; here, on timber-leg, the lamed Soldier hops painfully along,
begging alms: a thousand carriages, and wains, cars, come tumbling in with
Food, with young Rusticity, and other Raw Produce, inanimate or animate,
and go tumbling out again with produce manufactured. That living flood,
pouring through these streets, of all qualities and ages, knowest thou
whence it is coming, whither it is going? _Aus der Ewigkeit, zu der
Ewigkeit hin_: From Eternity, onwards to Eternity! These are Apparitions:
what else? Are they not Souls rendered visible: in Bodies, that took
shape and will lose it, melting into air? Their solid Pavement is a
Picture of the Sense; they walk on the bosom of Nothing, blank Time is
behind them and before them. Or fanciest thou, the red and yellow
Clothes-screen yonder, with spurs on its heels and feather in its crown, is
but of To-day, without a Yesterday or a To-morrow; and had not rather its
Ancestor alive when Hengst and Horsa overran thy Island? Friend, thou
seest here a living link in that Tissue of History, which inweaves all
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