Earth　held　but　one　and　not　several　of　these！
  He　says　that；　in　Town；　they　met　again：　　〃day　after　day；　like　his　heart's　sun；　the　blooming　Blumine　shone　on　him。　　Ah！　a　little　while　ago；　and　he　was　yet　in　all　darkness：　　him　what　Graceful　（_Holde_）　would　ever　love？　Disbelieving　all　things；　the　poor　youth　had　never　learned　to　believe　in　himself。　　Withdrawn；　in　proud　timidity；　within　his　own　fastnesses；　solitary　from　men；　yet　baited　by　night…spectres　enough；　he　saw　himself；　with　a　sad　indignation；　constrained　to　renounce　the　fairest　hopes　of　existence。　　And　now；　O　now！　　'She　looks　on　thee；'　cried　he：　　'she　the　fairest；　noblest；　do　not　her　dark　eyes　tell　thee；　thou　art　not　despised？　　The　Heaven's…Messenger！　　All　Heaven's　blessings　be　hers！'　　Thus　did　soft　melodies　flow　through　his　heart；　tones　of　an　infinite　gratitude；　sweetest　intimations　that　he　also　was　a　man；　that　for　him　also　unutterable　joys　had　been　provided。
  〃In　free　speech；　earnest　or　gay；　amid　lambent　glances；　laughter；　tears；　and　often　with　the　inarticulate　mystic　speech　of　Music：　　such　was　the　element　they　now　lived　in；　in　such　a　many…tinted；　radiant　Aurora；　and　by　this　fairest　of　Orient　Light…bringers　must　our　Friend　be　blandished；　and　the　new　Apocalypse　of　Nature　enrolled　to　him。　　Fairest　Blumine！　　And；　even　as　a　Star；　all　Fire　and　humid　Softness；　a　very　Light…ray　incarnate！　　Was　there　so　much　as　a　fault；　a　'caprice；'　he　could　have　dispensed　with？　　Was　she　not　to　him　in　very　deed　a　Morning…star；　did　not　her　presence　bring　with　it　airs　from　Heaven？　　As　from　AEolian　Harps　in　the　breath　of　dawn；　as　from　the　Memnon's　Statue　struck　by　the　rosy　finger　of　Aurora；　unearthly　music　was　around　him；　and　lapped　him　into　untried　balmy　Rest。　　Pale　Doubt　fled　away　to　the　distance；　Life　bloomed　up　with　happiness　and　hope。　　The　past；　then；　was　all　a　haggard　dream；　he　had　been　in　the　Garden　of　Eden；　then；　and　could　not　discern　it！　　But　lo　now！　the　black　walls　of　his　prison　melt　away；　the　captive　is　alive；　is　free。　　If　he　loved　his　Disenchantress？　　_Ach　Gott_！　His　whole　heart　and　soul　and　life　were　hers；　but　never　had　he　named　it　Love：　　existence　was　all　a　Feeling；　not　yet　shaped　into　a　Thought。〃
  Nevertheless；　into　a　Thought；　nay　into　an　Action；　it　must　be　shaped；　for　neither　Disenchanter　nor　Disenchantress；　mere　〃Children　of　Time；〃　can　abide　by　Feeling　alone。　　The　Professor　knows　not；　to　this　day；　〃how　in　her　soft；　fervid　bosom　the　Lovely　found　determination；　even　on　hest　of　Necessity；　to　cut　asunder　these　so　blissful　bonds。〃　　He　even　appears　surprised　at　the　〃Duenna　Cousin；〃　whoever　she　may　have　been；　〃in　whose　meagre　hunger…bitten　philosophy；　the　religion　of　young　hearts　was；　from　the　first；　faintly　approved　of。〃　　We；　even　at　such　distance；　can　explain　it　without　necromancy。　　Let　the　Philosopher　answer　this　one　question：　　What　figure；　at　that　period；　was　a　Mrs。　Teufelsdrockh　likely　to　make　in　polished　society？　Could　she　have　driven　so　much　as　a　brass…bound　Gig；　or　even　a　simple　iron…spring　one？　　Thou　foolish　〃absolved　Auscultator；〃　before　whom　lies　no　prospect　of　capital；　will　any　yet　known　〃religion　of　young　hearts〃　keep　the　human　kitchen　warm？　　Pshaw！　thy　divine　Blumine；　when　she　〃resigned　herself　to　wed　some　richer；〃　shows　more　philosophy；　though　but　〃a　woman　of　genius；〃　than　thou；　a　pretended　man。
  Our　readers　have　witnessed　the　origin　of　this　Love…mania；　and　with　what　royal　splendor　it　waxes；　and　rises。　　Let　no　one　ask　us　to　unfold　the　glories　of　its　dominant　state；　much　less　the　horrors　of　its　almost　instantaneous　dissolution。　　How　from　such　inorganic　masses；　henceforth　madder　than　ever；　as　lie　in　these　Bags；　can　even　fragments　of　a　living　delineation　be　organized？　　Besides；　of　what　profit　were　it？　　We　view；　with　a　lively　pleasure；　the　gay　silk　Montgolfier　start　from　the　ground；　and　shoot　upwards；　cleaving　the　liquid　deeps；　till　it　dwindle　to　a　luminous　star：　　but　what　is　there　to　look　longer　on；　when　once；　by　natural　elasticity；　or　accident　of　fire；　it　has　exploded？　　A　hapless　air…navigator；　plunging；　amid　torn　parachutes；　sand…bags；　and　confused　wreck；　fast　enough　into　the　jaws　of　the　Devil！　　Suffice　it　to　know　that　Teufelsdrockh　rose　into　the　highest　regions　of　the　Empyrean；　by　a　natural　parabolic　track；　and　returned　thence　in　a　quick　perpendicular　one。　　For　the　rest；　let　any　feeling　reader；　who　has　been　unhappy　enough　to　do　the　like；　paint　it　out　for　himself：　　considering　only　that　if　he；　for　his　perhaps　comparatively　insignificant　mistress；　underwent　such　agonies　and　frenzies；　what　must　Teufelsdrockh's　have　been；　with　a　fire…heart；　and　for　a　nonpareil　Blumine！　We　glance　merely　at　the　final　scene：
  〃One　morning；　he　found　his　Morning…star　all　dimmed　and　dusky…red；　the　fair　creature　was　silent；　absent；　she　seemed　to　have　been　weeping。　　Alas；　no　longer　a　Morning…star；　but　a　troublous　skyey　Portent；　announcing　that　the　Doomsday　had　dawned！　　She　said；　in　a　tremulous　voice；　They　were　to　meet　no　more。〃　　The　thunder…struck　Air…sailor　is　not　wanting　to　himself　in　this　dread　hour：　　but　what　avails　it？　　We　omit　the　passionate　expostulations；　entreaties；　indignations；　since　all　was　vain；　and　not　even　an　explanation　was　conceded　him；　and　hasten　to　the　catastrophe。　　〃'Farewell；　then；　Madam！'　said　he；　not　without　sternness；　for　his　stung　pride　helped　him。　　She　put　her　hand　in　his；　she　looked　in　his　face；　tears　started　to　her　eyes；　in　wild　audacity　he　clasped　her　to　his　bosom；　their　lips　were　joined；　their　two　souls；　like　two　dew…drops；　rushed　into　one；for　the　first　time　and　for　the　last！〃　　Thus　was　Teufelsdrockh　made　immortal　by　a　kiss。　　And　then？　　Why；　then〃thick　curtains　of　Night　rushed　over　his　soul；　as　rose　the　immeasurable　Crash　of　Doom；　and　through　the　ruins　as　of　a　shivered　Universe　was　he　falling；　falling；　towards　the　Abyss。〃
  CHAPTER　VI。　SORROWS　OF　TEUFELSDROCKH。
  We　have　long　felt　that；　with　a　man　like　our　Professor；　matters　must　often　be　expected　to　take　a　course　of　their　own；　that　in　so　multiplex；　intricate　a　nature；　there　might　be　channels；　both　for　admitting　and　emitting；　such　as　the　Psychologist　had　seldom　noted；　in　short；　that　on　no　grand　occasion　and　convulsion；　neither　in　the　joy…storm　nor　in　the　woe…storm　could　you　predict　his　demeanor。
  To　our　less　philosophical　readers；　for　example；　it　is　now　clear　that　the　so　passionate　Teufelsdrockh　precipitated　through　〃a　shivered　Universe〃　in　this　extraordinary　way；　has　only　one　of　three　things　which　he　can　next　do：　Establish　himself　in　Bedlam；　begin　writing　Satanic　Poetry；　or　blow　out　his　brains。　　In　the　progress　towards　any　of　which　consummations；　do　not　such　readers　anticipate　extravagance　enough；　breast…beating；　brow…beating　（against　walls）；　lion…bellowings　of　blasphemy　and　the　like；　stampings；　smitings；　breakages　of　furniture；　if　not　arson　itself？
  Nowise　so　does　Teufelsdrockh　deport　him。　　He　quietly　lifts　his　_Pilgerstab_　（Pilgrim…staff）；　〃old　business　being　soon　wound　up；〃　and　begins　a　perambulation　and　circumambulation　of　the　terraqueous　Globe！　　Curious　it　is；　indeed；　how　with　such　vivacity　of　conception；　such　intensity　of　feeling；　above　all；　with　these　unconscionable　habits　of　Exaggeration　in　speech；　he　combines　that　wonderful　stillness　of　his；　that　stoicism　in　external　procedure。　　Thus；　if　his　sudden　bereavement；　in　this　matter　of　the　Flower…goddess；　is　talked　of　as　a　real　Doomsday　and　Dissolution　of　Nature；　in　which　light　doubtless　it　partly　appeared　to　himself；　his　own　nature　is　nowise　dissolved　thereby；　but　rather　is　compressed　closer。　　For　once；　as　we　might　say；　a　Blumine　by　magic　appliances　has　unlocked　that　shut　heart　of　his；　and　its　hidden　things　rush　out　tumultuous；　boundless；　like　genii　enfranchised　from　their　glass　vial：　　but　no　sooner　are　your　magic　appliances　withdrawn；　than　the　strange　casket　of　a　heart　springs　to　again；　and　perhaps　there　is　now　no　key　extant　that　will　open　it；　for　a　Teufelsdrockh　as　we　remarked；　will　not　love　a　second　time。　　Singular　Diogenes！　　No　sooner　has　that　heart…rending　occurrence　fairly　taken　place；　than　he　affects　to　regard　it　as　a　thing　natural；　of　which　there　is　nothing　more　to　be　said。　　〃One　highest　hope；　seemingly　legible　in　the　eyes　of　an　Angel；　had　recalled　him　as　out　of　Death…shadows　into　celestial　Life：　　but　a　gleam　of　Tophet　passed　over　the　face　of　his　Angel；　he　was　rapt　away　in　whirlwinds；　and　heard　the　laughter　of　Demons。　　It　was　a　Calenture；〃　adds　he；　〃whereby　the　Youth　saw　green　Paradise…groves　in　the　waste　Ocean…waters：　a　lying　vision；　yet　not　wholly　a　lie；　for　_he_　saw　it。〃　　But　what　things　soever　passed　in　him；　when　he　ceased　to　see　it；　what　ragings　and　despairings　soever　Teufelsdrockh's　soul　was　the　scene　of；　he　has　the　goodness　to　conceal　under　a　quite　opaque　cover　of　Silence。　　We　know　it　well；　the　first　mad　paroxysm　past；　our　brave　Gneschen　collected　his　dismembered　philosophies；　and　buttoned　himself　together；　he　was　meek；　silent；　or　spoke　of　the　weather　and　the　Journals：　　only　by　a　transient　knitting　of　those　shaggy　brows；　by　some　deep　flash　of　those　eyes；　glancing　one　knew　not　whether　with　tear…dew　or　with　fierce　fire；might　you　have　guessed　what　a　Gehenna　was　within：　　that　a　whole　Satanic　School　were　spouting；　though　inaudibly；　there。　　To　consume　your　own　choler；　as　some　chimneys　consume　their　own　smoke；　to　keep　a　whole　Satanic　School　spouting；　if　it　mu