is the equal and kindly
brother of all.

'Shall we tremble before clothwebs and cobwebs, whether woven in
Arkwright looms, or by the silent Arachnes that weave unrestingly in
our imagination? Or, on the other hand, what is there that we cannot
love; since all was created by God?

'Happy he who can look through the Clothes of a Man (the woollen, and
fleshly, and official Bank-paper and State-paper Clothes) into the Man
himself; and discern, it may be, in this or the other Dread Potentate,
a more or less incompetent Digestive-apparatus; yet also an
inscrutable venerable Mystery, in the meanest Tinker that sees with
eyes!'

For the rest, as is natural to a man of this kind, he deals much in
the feeling of Wonder; insists on the necessity and high worth of
universal Wonder; which he holds to be the only reasonable temper for
the denizen of so singular a Planet as ours. 'Wonder,' says he, 'is
the basis of Worship: the reign of wonder is perennial, indestructible
in Man; only at certain stages (as the present), it is, for some short
season, a reign _in partibus infidelium_.' That progress of Science,
which is to destroy Wonder, and in its stead substitute Mensuration
and Numeration, finds small favour with Teufelsdroeckh, much as he
otherwise venerates these two latter processes.

'Shall your Science,' exclaims he, 'proceed in the small
chink-lighted, or even oil-lighted, underground workshop of Logic
alone; and man's mind become an Arithmetical Mill, whereof Memory is
the Hopper, and mere Tables of Sines and Tangents, Codification, and
Treatises of what you call Political Economy, are the Meal? And what
is that Science, which the scientific head alone, were it screwed off,
and (like the Doctor's in the Arabian Tale) set in a basin to keep it
alive, could prosecute without shadow of a heart,--but one other of
the mechanical and menial handicrafts, for which the Scientific Head
(having a Soul in it) is too noble an organ? I mean that Thought
without Reverence is barren, perhaps poisonous; at best, dies like
cookery with the day that called it forth; does not live, like sowing,
in successive tilths and wider-spreading harvests, bringing food and
plenteous increase to all Time.'

In such wise does Teufelsdroeckh deal hits, harder or softer, according
to ability; yet ever, as we would fain persuade ourselves, with
charitable intent. Above all, that class of 'Logic-choppers, and
treble-pipe Scoffers, and professed Enemies