"too crowded"; whereupon Teufelsdröckh bursts out thus:

A TOO-CROWDED EARTH.

"Too crowded, indeed! Meanwhile, what portion. of this considerable terraqueous globe have ye actually tilled and delved till it will grow no more? How thick stands your population in the pampas and savannas of America, round ancient Carthage and in the interior of Africa, on both sides of the Altai chain and in the central plateau of Asia, in Spain, Greece, Turkey, Crim-Tartary, and the Curragh of Kildare? One man in one year, as I understand it, if you give him earth, will feed himself and nine others. Where now are the Hengists and Alarics of our still-growing, still-expanding Europe, who, when their home is grown too strait, will enlist, and like fire-pillars guide onward those superfluous masses of living valor, equipped not now with the battle-axe and the war-chariot, but with the steam-engine and the ploughshare?-Preserving their game."

Few paragraphs have been so often quoted, and fewer still deserve to be so often quoted, as the following, which purports to have been scrawled by Teufelsdröckh upon a blank cover of Heuschrecke's pamphlet:

CRAFTSMAN AND THINKER.

"Two men I honor, and no third. First, the toilworn Craftsman that with Earth-made implement laboriously conquers the Earth, and makes her Man's. Venerable to me is the hard Hand; crooked, coarse; wherein notwithstanding lies a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as of the Sceptre of this Planet. Venerable too is the

The foregoing, and some which follow, purport to be marginal notes written by Teufelsdröckh upon a little pamphlet from the brain and pen of a certain Hofrath Heuschrecke (CourtCouncillor Grasshopper), a great admirer of the Weissnichtwo professor. The Hofrath's imaginary pamphlet is entitled "Institute for the Repression of Population." Of this pamphlet and its author, Carlyle, writing in the character of editor of Teufelsdröckh's "Literary Remains," says: "Into the Hofrath's Institute, with its extraordinary schemes and machinery of Corresponding Boards and the like, we shall not so much as glance. Enough for us to understand that Heuschrecke is a disciple of Malthus; and so zealous for the doctrine that his zeal almost literally eats him up. A deadly fear of Population possesses the Hofrath, something like a fixed idea, undoubtedly akin to the more diluted forms of madness. Nowhere in that quarter of his intellectual world is there light, nothing but a grim shadow of Hunger, open mouths opening wider and wider, a world to terminate by the frightfulest consummation, by its too dense inhabitants famished into delirium, universally eating one another. Wherefore the Hofrath founded, or proposes to found, this Institute of his as the best he can do. It is only with our Professor's comments thereon that we have to do." Councillor Grasshopper has somewhere used the phrase

"too crowded"; whereupon Teufelsdröckh bursts out thus:

A TOO-CROWDED EARTH.

"Too crowded, indeed! Meanwhile, what portion of this considerable terraqueous globe have ye actually tilled and delved till it will grow no more? How thick stands your population in the pampas and savannas of America, round ancient Carthage and in the interior of Africa, on both sides of the Altai chain and in the central plateau of Asia, in Spain, Greece, Turkey, Crim-Tartary, and the Curragh of Kildare? One man in one year, as I understand it, if you give him earth, will feed himself and nine others. Where now are the Hengists and Alarics of our still-growing, still-expanding Europe, who, when their home is grown too strait, will enlist, and like fire-pillars guide onward those superfluous masses of living valor, equipped not now with the battle-axe and the war-chariot, but with the steam-engine and the ploughshare?-Preserving their game."

Few paragraphs have been so often quoted, and fewer still deserve to be so often quoted, as the following, which purports to have been scrawled by Teufelsdröckh upon a blank cover of Heuschrecke's pamphlet:

ORAFTSMAN AND THINKER.

"Two men I honor, and no third. First, the toilworn Craftsman that with Earth-made implement laboriously conquers the Earth, and makes her Man's. Venerable to me is the hard Hand; crooked, coarse; wherein notwithstanding lies a cunning virtue, indefeasibly royal, as of the Sceptre of this Planet. Venerable too is the

کیا

rugged Face, all weather-tanned, with its rude intelligence; for it is the face of a Man living manlike. Oh, but the more venerable for thy rudeness, and even because we must pity as well as love thee! Hardly-entreated Brother! For us was thy back so bent; for us were thy straight limbs and fingers so deformed: thou wert our Conscript, on whom the lot fell, and fighting our battles wert so marred. For in thee too lay a Godcreated Form, but it was not to be unfolded; encrusted must it stand with the thick adhesions and defacements of Labor; and thy body, like thy soul, was not to know freedom. Yet toil on, toil on; thou art in thy duty be out of it who may; thou toilest for the altogether indispensable for daily bread.

"A second man I honor, and still more highly: Him who is seen toiling for the spiritually indispensable; not daily bread, but the Bread of Life. Is not he in his duty; endeavoring toward inward Harmony; revealing this by act, or by word, through all his outward endeavors, be they high or low? Highest of all, when his outward and his inward endeavor are one: when we can name him Artist; not earthly Craftsman only, but inspired Thinker, who with Heaven-made implement conquers Heaven for us! If the poor and humble toil that we may have Food, must not the high and glorious toil for him in return, that he may have Light, Freedom, Immortality? These two, in all their degrees, I honor: all else is chaff and dust, which let the wind blow whither it listeth.

"Unspeakably touching is it, however, when I find both dignities united; and he that must toil outwardly for the lowest of man's wants, is always toiling inwardly for the highest. Sublimer in this world know I nothing

than a Peasant Saint, could such now anywhere be met with. Such a one will take thee back to Nazareth itself; thou wilt see the splendor of Heaven spring forth from the humblest depth of Earth, like a light shining in great darkness."

And yet again-following out the same line of thought—with which we conclude what we have to say of "Sartor Resartus," the fine outgrowth of Carlyle's earlier manhood, before, somewhat as his friend Irving had done, he betook himself to the great Babylon of our modern centuries:

SCIENCE AND NESCIENCE.

"It is not because of his toils that I lament for the poor. We must all toil, or steal (howsoever we namo our stealing), which is worse. The poor is hungry and athirst; but for him also there is food and drink; he is heavy-laden and weary; but for him also the Heavens send Sleep, and of the deepest; in his smoky cribs, a clear dewy heaven of Rest envelopes him, and fitful glimmerings of cloud-skirted Dreams. But what I do mourn for is, that the lamp of his soul should go out; that no ray of heavenly, or even of earthly knowledge should visit him; but only, in the haggard darkness, like two spectres, Fear and Indignation. Alas, while the Body stands so broad and brawny, must the Soul lie blinded, dwarfed, stupefied, almost annihilated? Alas, was this too a Breath of God; bestowed in Heaven, but on Earth never to be unfolded?—That there should one Man die Ignorant who had capacity for Knowledge, this I call a tragedy, were it to happen more than twenty times in the minute, as by some computations it does. The miserable fraction