EDITORIAL DIFFICULTIES.
If for a speculative man, "whose seedfield," in the sublime words of the
Poet, "is Time," no conquest is important but that of new ideas, then might
the arrival of Professor Teufelsdrockh's Book be marked with chalk in the
Editor's calendar. It is indeed an "extensive Volume," of boundless,
almost formless contents, a very Sea of Thought; neither calm nor clear, if
you will; yet wherein the toughest pearl-diver may dive to his utmost
depth, and return not only with sea-wreck but with true orients.
Directly on the first perusal, almost on the first deliberate inspection,
it became apparent that here a quite new Branch of Philosophy, leading to
as yet undescried ulterior results, was disclosed; farther, what seemed
scarcely less interesting, a quite new human Individuality, an almost
unexampled personal character, that, namely, of Professor Teufelsdrockh the
Discloser. Of both which novelties, as far as might be possible, we
resolved to master the significance. But as man is emphatically a
proselytizing creature, no sooner was such mastery even fairly attempted,
than the new question arose: How might this acquired good be imparted to
others, perhaps in equal need thereof; how could the Philosophy of Clothes,
and the Author of such Philosophy, be brought home, in any measure, to the
business and bosoms of our own English Nation? For if new-got gold is said
to burn the pockets till it be cast forth into circulation, much more may
new truth.
Here, however, difficulties occurred. The first thought naturally was to
publish Article after Article on this remarkable Volume, in such widely
circulating Critical Journals as the Editor might stand connected with, or
by money or love procure access to. But, on the other hand, was it not
clear that such matter as must here be revealed, and treated of, might
endanger the circulation of any Journal extant? If, indeed, all
party-divisions in the State could have been abolished, Whig, Tory, and
Radical, embracing in discrepant union; and all the Journals of the Nation
could have been jumbled into one Journal, and the Philosophy of Clothes
poured forth in incessant torrents therefrom, the attempt had seemed
possible. But, alas, what vehicle of that sort have we, except _Fraser's
Magazine_? A vehicle all strewed (figuratively speaking) with the maddest
Waterloo-Crackers, exploding distractively and destructively, wheresoever
the mystified passenger stands or sits; nay, in any case, understood to be,
of late years, a vehicle full to overflowing, and inexorably shut!
Besides, to state the Philosophy of Clothes without the Philosopher, the
ideas of Teufelsdrockh without something of his personality, was it not to
insure both of entire misapprehension? Now for Biography, had it been
otherwise admissible, there were no adequate documents, no hope of
obtaining such, but rather, owing to circumstances, a special despair.
Thus did the Editor see himself, for the while, shut out from all public
utterance of these extraordinary Doctrines, and constrained to revolve
them, not without disquietude, in the dark depths of his own mind.
So had it lasted for some months; and now the Volume on Clothes, read and
again read, was in several points becoming lucid and lucent; the
personality of its Author more and more surprising, but, in spite of all
that memory and conjecture could do, more and more enigmatic; whereby the
old disquietude seemed fast settling into fixed discontent,--when
altogether unexpectedly arrives a Letter from Herr Hofrath Heuschrecke, our
Professor's chief friend and associate in Weissnichtwo, with whom we had
not previously corresponded. The Hofrath, after much quite extraneous
matter, began dilating largely on the "agitation and attention" which the
Philosophy of Clothes was exciting in its own German Republic of Letters;
on the deep significance and tendency of his Friend's Volume; and then, at
length, with great circumlocution, hinted at the practicability of
conveying "some knowledge of it, and of him, to England, and through
England to the distant West:" a work on Professor Teufelsdrockh "were
undoubtedly welcome to the _Family_, the _National_, or any other of those
patriotic _Libraries_, at present the glory of British Literature;" might
work revolutions in Thought; and so forth;--in conclusion, intimating not
obscurely, that should the present Editor feel disposed to undertake a
Biography of Teufelsdrockh, he, Hofrath Heuschrecke, had it in his power to
furnish the requisite Documents.
As in some chemical mixture, that has stood long evaporating, but would not
crystallize, instantly when the wire or other fixed substance is
introduced, crystallization commences, and rapidly proceeds till the whole
is finished, so was it with the Editor's mind and this offer of
Heuschrecke's. Form rose out of void solution and discontinuity; like
united itself with like in definite arrangement: and soon either in actual
vision and possession, or in fixed reasonable hope, the image of the whole
Enterprise had shaped itself, so to speak, into a solid mass. Cautiously
yet courageously, through the twopenny post, application to the famed
redoubtable OLIVER YORKE was now made: an interview, interviews with that
singular man have taken place; with more of assurance on our side, with
less of satire (at least of open satire) on his, than we anticipated; for
the rest, with such issue as is now visible. As to those same "patriotic
_Libraries_," the Hofrath's counsel could only be viewed with silent
amazement; but with his offer of Documents we joyfully and almost
instantaneously closed. Thus, too, in the sure expectation of these, we
already see our task begun; and this our _Sartor Resartus_, which is
properly a "Life and Opinions of Herr Teufelsdrockh," hourly advancing.
Of our fitness for the Enterprise, to which we have such title and
vocation, it were perhaps uninteresting to say more. Let the British
reader study and enjoy, in simplicity of heart, what is here presented him,
and with whatever metaphysical acumen and talent for meditation he is
possessed of. Let him strive to keep a free, open sense; cleared from the
mists of prejudice, above all from the paralysis of cant; and directed
rather to the Book itself than to the Editor of the Book. Who or what such
Editor may be, must remain conjectural, and even insignificant:* it is a
voice publishing tidings of the Philosophy of Clothes; undoubtedly a Spirit
addressing Spirits: whoso hath ears, let him hear.
*With us even he still communicates in some sort of mask, or muffler; and,
we have reason to think, under a feigned name!--O. Y.
On one other point the Editor thinks it needful to give warning: namely,
that he is animated with a true though perhaps a feeble attachment to the
Institutions of our Ancestors; and minded to defend these, according to
ability, at all hazards; nay, it was partly with a view to such defence
that he engaged in this undertaking. To stem, or if that be impossible,
profitably to divert the current of Innovation, such a Volume as
Teufelsdrockh's, if cunningly planted down, were no despicable pile, or
floodgate, in the logical wear.
For the rest, be it nowise apprehended, that any personal connection of
ours with Teufelsdrockh, Heuschrecke or this Philosophy of Clothes, can
pervert our judgment, or sway us to extenuate or exaggerate. Powerless, we
venture to promise, are those private Compliments themselves. Grateful
they may well be; as generous illusions of friendship; as fair mementos of
bygone unions, of those nights and suppers of the gods, when, lapped in the
symphonies and harmonies of Philosophic Eloquence, though with baser
accompaniments, the present Editor revelled in that feast of reason, never
since vouchsafed him in so full measure! But what then? _Amicus Plato,
magis amica veritas_; Teufelsdrockh is our friend, Truth is our divinity.
In our historical and critical capacity, we hope we are strangers to all
the world; have feud or favor with no one,--save indeed the Devil, with
whom, as with the Prince of Lies and Darkness, we do at all times wage
internecine war. This assurance, at an epoch when puffery and quackery
have reached a height unexampled in the annals of mankind, and even English
Editors, like Chinese Shopkeepers, must write on their door-lintels _No
cheating here_,--we thought it good to premise.