might transform
him simply into a curious but heartless dilettante, a mere tourist of
the spirit, whose sole desire is to see and to take notes. But that
could never satisfy Carlyle; for that is but self-indulgence in its more
refined form of the lust of the eyes. It was not for this that the
Everlasting No had set Teufelsdroeckh wailing, nor for this that he had
risen up in wrath and bidden defiance to fear. From his temptation in
the wilderness the Son of Man must come forth, not to wander
open-mouthed about the plain, but to work his way "into the higher
sunlit slopes of that Mountain which has no summit, or whose summit is
in Heaven only."

In other words, a great compassion for his fellow-men has come upon him.
"With other eyes, too, could I now look upon my fellow-man: with an
infinite Love, an infinite Pity. Poor, wandering, wayward man! Art thou
not tried, and beaten with stripes, even as I am? Ever, whether thou
bear the royal mantle or the beggar's gabardine, art thou not so weary,
so heavy-laden; and thy Bed of Rest is but a Grave. O my Brother, my
Brother, why cannot I shelter thee in my bosom, and wipe away all tears
from thy eyes!" The words remind us of the famous passage, occurring
early in the book, which describes the Professor's Watchtower. It was
suggested by the close-packed streets of Edinburgh's poorer quarter, as
seen from the slopes of the hills which stand close on her eastern side.
Probably no passage ever written has so vividly and suggestively massed
together the various and contradictory aspects of the human tragedy.

One more question, however, has yet to be answered before we have solved
our problem. What about happiness? We all cry aloud for it, and make its
presence or absence the criterion for judging the worth of days.
Teufelsdroeckh goes to the heart of the matter with his usual directness.
It is this search for happiness which is the explanation of all the
unwholesomeness that culminated in the Everlasting No. "Because the
THOU (sweet gentleman) is not sufficiently honoured, nourished,
soft-bedded, and lovingly cared-for? Foolish soul! What Act of
Legislature was there that _thou_ shouldst be Happy? A little while ago
thou hadst no right to _be_ at all. What if thou wert born and
predestined not to be Happy, but to be Unhappy! Art thou nothing other
than a Vulture, then, that fliest through the Universe seeking after
somewhat to _eat_; and shrieking dolefully because carrion enough