Meanwhile he was haunted by the idea--he should like to possess such a
pair of spectacles himself; then, perhaps, by using them circumspectly,
one would be able to look into people's hearts, which, he thought, would
be far more interesting than merely to see what was to happen next year;
for that we should all know in proper time, but the other never.
“I can now,” said he to himself, “fancy the whole row of ladies and
gentlemen sitting there in the front row; if one could but see into
their hearts--yes, that would be a revelation--a sort of bazar. In that
lady yonder, so strangely dressed, I should find for certain a large
milliner's shop; in that one the shop is empty, but it wants cleaning
plain enough. But there would also be some good stately shops among
them. Alas!” sighed he, “I know one in which all is stately; but there
sits already a spruce young shopman, which is the only thing that's
amiss in the whole shop. All would be splendidly decked out, and we
should hear, 'Walk in, gentlemen, pray walk in; here you will find all
you please to want.' Ah! I wish to Heaven I could walk in and take a
trip right through the hearts of those present!”
And behold! to the Shoes of Fortune this was the cue; the whole man
shrunk together and a most uncommon journey through the hearts of the
front row of spectators, now began. The first heart through which he
came, was that of a middle-aged lady, but he instantly fancied himself
in the room of the “Institution for the cure of the crooked and
deformed,” where casts of mis-shapen limbs are displayed in naked
reality on the wall. Yet there was this difference, in the institution
the casts were taken at the entry of the patient; but here they were
retained and guarded in the heart while the sound persons went away.
They were, namely, casts of female friends, whose bodily or mental
deformities were here most faithfully preserved.
With the snake-like writhings of an idea he glided into another female
heart; but this seemed to him like a large holy fane. [*] The white dove of
innocence fluttered over the altar. How gladly would he have sunk upon
his knees; but he must away to the next heart; yet he still heard the
pealing tones of the organ, and he himself seemed to have become a newer
and a better man; he felt unworthy to tread the neighboring sanctuary
which a poor garret, with a sick bed-rid mother, revealed. But God's
warm sun streamed through the open window; lovely roses nodded from
the wooden flower-boxes on the roof, and two sky-blue birds sang
rejoicingly, while the sick mother implored God's richest blessings on
her pious daughter.
* temple
He now crept on hands and feet through a butcher's shop; at least on
every side, and above and below, there was nought but flesh. It was the
heart of a most respectable rich man, whose name is certain to be found
in the Directory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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