“If aught in the history of the world’s blindness could surprise us, here might we indeed pause and wonder.  An idea has gone abroad, and fixed itself down into a wide-spreading rooted error, that Tailors are a distinct species in Physiology, not Men, but fractional Parts of a Man.  Call any one a Schneider (Cutter, Tailor), is it not, in our dislocated, hoodwinked, and indeed delirious condition of Society, equivalent to defying his perpetual fellest enmity?  The epithet schneidermassig (tailor-like) betokens an otherwise unapproachable degree of pusillanimity; we introduce a Tailor’s-Melancholy, more opprobrious than any Leprosy, into our Books of Medicine; and fable I know not what of his generating it by living on Cabbage.  Why should I speak of Hans Sachs (himself a Shoemaker, or kind of Leather-Tailor), with his Schneider mit dem Panier?  Why of Shakspeare, in his Taming of the Shrew, and elsewhere?  Does it not stand on record that the English Queen Elizabeth, receiving a deputation of Eighteen Tailors, addressed them with a ’Good morning, gentlemen both!’ Did not the same virago boast that she had a Cavalry Regiment, whereof neither horse nor man could be injured; her Regiment, namely, of Tailors on Mares?  Thus everywhere is the falsehood taken for granted, and acted on as an indisputable fact.

“Nevertheless, need I put the question to any Physiologist, whether it is disputable or not?  Seems it not at least presumable, that, under his Clothes, the Tailor has bones and viscera, and other muscles than the sartorius?  Which function of manhood is the Tailor not conjectured to perform?  Can he not arrest for debt?  Is he not in most countries a taxpaying animal?

“To no reader of this Volume can it be doubtful which conviction is mine.  Nay if the fruit of these long vigils, and almost preternatural Inquiries, is not to perish utterly, the world will have approximated towards a higher Truth; and the doctrine, which Swift, with the keen forecast of genius, dimly anticipated, will stand revealed in clear light:  that the Tailor is not only a Man, but something of a Creator or Divinity.  Of Franklin it was said, that ’he snatched the Thunder from Heaven and the Sceptre from Kings:’  but which is greater, I would ask, he that lends, or he that snatches?  For, looking away from individual cases, and how a Man is by the Tailor new-created into a Nobleman, and clothed not only with Wool but with Dignity and a Mystic Dominion,—­is not the fair fabric of Society itself, with all its royal mantles and pontifical stoles, whereby, from nakedness and dismemberment, we are organized into Polities, into nations, and a whole co-operating Mankind, the creation, as has here been often irrefragably evinced, of the Tailor alone?—­What too are all Poets and moral Teachers, but a species of Metaphorical Tailors?  Touching which high Guild the greatest living Guild-brother has triumphantly asked us:  ’Nay if thou wilt have it, who but the Poet first made Gods for men; brought them down to us; and raised us up to them?’