to pass that among the Persians the only proper ecclesiastical garments must be of the Shiite cut; that is, that Ali, the son-in-law of Mohammed, was his true successor: while with the Turks the ecclesiastical garments must be of the Sunnite pattern; that is, that Abubekr, the father-in-law of the Prophet, was his true successor? Or again : What philosopher can tell us why the Latin Church will have "Filioque" embroidered upon its ecclesiastical robes, while the Greek Church holds it to be an abomination? Or again: Why the political garb of the British is of the "Constitutional Monarchy" cut; that of the Americans strictly "Republican"; that of the Russians "Autocratic"; that of the French, from time to time, anything from "Imperial" to "Communistic"?

But for the civilized man Clothes-that is, Institutions-of some sort are an absolute necessity. Teufelsdröckh thus dilates upon the condition and character of the primeval man, before the idea of Clothes, material or moral, had fairly begun to dawn upon him. His professed theory is that "the first purpose of Clothes, or Institutions, was not warmth or decency, but ornament.

THE PRIMEVAL AND THE CIVILIZED MAN.

"Miserable indeed,” exclaims the Professor in that imaginary book of his, "was the condition of the Aboriginal Savage glaring fiercely from under his fleece of hair, which with the beard reached down to the loins,

and hung round him like a matted cloak; the rest of his body sheeted in its thick natural fell. He loitered in the sunny glades of the forest, living on wild fruits; or, as the ancient Caledonian, squatted himself in morasses, lurking for his bestial or human prey; without implements, without arms, save the ball of heavy Flint, to which, that his sole possession and defense might not be lost, he had attached a long cord of plaited thongs; thereby recovering as well as hurling it with deadly unerring skill. Nevertheless the pains of Hunger and Revenge once satisfied, his next care was not Comfort but Decoration (Putz). Warmth he found in the toils of the chase; or amid dried leaves in his hollow tree, in his bark shed, or natural grotto: but for Decoration he must have Clothes. Nay, among wild people, we find tattooing and painting even prior to Clothes. The first spiritual want of a barbarous man is Decoration, as indeed we see among the barbarous classes in civilized countries.

"Reader, the heaven-inspired melodious Singer; loftiest Serene Highness: nay, thy own amber-locked, snowand-rosebloom Maiden, worthy to glide sylphlike almost on air, whom thou worshipest as a divine Presence, which indeed, symbolically taken, she is―has descended, like thyself, from that same hair-mantled flint-hurling Aboriginal Anthropophagus! 'Out of the eater cometh forth meat; out of the strong cometh forth Sweetness.' What changes are wrought, not by Time, yet in Time! For not Mankind only, but all that Mankind does or beholds, is in continual growth, re-genesis, and self-perfecting vitality. Cast forth thy Act, thy Word, into the ever-living, ever-working Universe: it is a seed-grain that cannot die; unnoticed to-day (says one), it will be

found flourishing as a Banyan-grove (perhaps, alas, as a Hemlock-forest !) after a thousand years."

Following out the same vein of thought, the unpupiled Professor of Hodge-Podge Philosophy continues:

PROGRESS OF CLOTHING.

"He who first shortened the labor of Copyists by device of Movable Types was disbanding hired armies, and cashiering most Kings and Senators, and creating a whole new Democratic World: he had invented the Art of Printing. The first ground handful of Nitre, Sulphur, and Charcoal drove Monk Schwartz's pestle through the ceiling: what will the last do? Achieve the final undisputed prostration of Force under Thought, of Animal courage under Spiritual. A simple invention it was in the old-world Grazier,-sick of lugging his slow Ox about the country till he got it bartered for corn or oil,-to take a piece of Leather, and thereon scratch or stamp the mere Figure of an Ox (or Pecus); put it in his pocket, and call it Pecunia, Money. hereby did Barter grow Sale; the Leather Money is now Golden and Paper, and all miracles have been out-miracled for there are Rothschilds and English National Debts; and whoso has sixpence is Sovereign (to the length of sixpence) over all men; commands Cooks to feed him, Philosophers to teach him, and Kings to mount guard over him,-to the length of sixpence.-Clothes, too, which began in the foolishest love of Ornament, what have they not become! Increased Security and pleasurable Heat soon followed: but what of these? Shame, divine Shame (Schaam, Modesty), as yet a stranger to the Anthropophagous bosom, arose there mysteriously

Yet

under Clothes; a mystic grove-encircled shrine for the Holy in man. Clothes gave us individuality, distinctions, social policy; Clothes have made Men of us; they are threatening to make Clothes-screens of us.”

In those serene Craigenputtoch days when "Sartor Resartus" was meditated and mainly written (for there are in the book, toward its close, passages which clearly belong to a later and far less healthful period), Carlyle's philosophy of life was upon the whole optimist. But in the sentence last quoted we have a glimpse of the pessimist view of humanity, which was in time to become predominant with him. Here follows a passage of grim humor, Teufelsdröckh being the speaker:

THE TAILORS AND THE TAILORED.

"Strange enough, it strikes me, is this fact of there being Tailors and Tailored. The Horse I ride has his own whole fell: strip him of the girths and flaps and extraneous tags I have fastened around him, and the noble creature is his own sempster and weaver and spinner: nay, his own boot-maker, jeweler, and man-milliner; he bounds through the valleys, with a perennial rainproof suit on his body; wherein warmth and easiness of fit have reached perfection; nay, the graces also have been considered, and frills and fringes, with gay variety of color, featly appended, and ever in the right place, are not wanting. While I,-good Heaven! have thatched myself over with the dead fleeces of sheep, the bark of vegetables, the entrails of worms, the hides of oxen or seals, the felt of furred beasts; and walk about a mov

ing Rag-screen, overheaped with shreds and tatters raked from the Charnel-house of Nature, where they would have rotted, to rot on me more slowly! Day after day, I must thatch myself anew; day after day this despicable thatch must lose some film of its thickness; some film of it, frayed away by tear and wear, must be brushed off into the Ashpit, into the Laystall, till by degrees the whole has been been brushed thither, and I, the dust-making, patent Rag-grinder, get new material to grind down. O subter-brutish! vile! most vile! For have I not too a compact all-enclosing Skin, whiter or dingier? Am not I a botched mass of tailors' and cobblers' shreds then; or a tightly-articulated, homogeneous little Figure, automatic, nay alive?

Strange enough how creatures of the human-kind shut their eyes to the plainest facts. But, indeed man is, and was always, a blockhead and a dullard, much readier to feed and digest, than to think and consider. Perhaps not once in a lifetime does it occur to your ordinary biped, of any country or generation, be he goldmantled Prince or russet-jerkined Peasant, that his Vestments and his Self are not one and indivisible; that he is naked, without vestments, till he buy or steal such, and by forethought sew and button them. For my own part, these considerations, of our Clothes-thatch; and how, reaching inwards even to our heart of hearts, it tailorizes and demoralizes us, fill me with a certain horror at myself and mankind; almost as one feels at those Dutch Cows, which, during the wet season, you see grazing deliberately with jackets and petticoats (of striped sacking) in the meadows of Gouda. Nevertheless, there is something great in the moment when a man first strips himself of adventitious wrappages; and sees