No More Learning

" ejaculated our hero, starting to his feet, overturning the
table at his side, and staring around him in astonishment.

"Very true," calmly replied the voice.

"Very true! --what is very true? --how came you here? " vociferated the
metaphysician, as his eye fell upon something which lay stretched at
full length upon the bed.

"I was saying," said the intruder, without attending to the
interrogatives,--"I was saying that I am not at all pushed for
time--that the business upon which I took the liberty of calling, is of
no pressing importance--in short, that I can very well wait until you
have finished your Exposition. "

"My Exposition! --there now! --how do you know? --how came you to
understand that I was writing an Exposition? --good God! "

"Hush! " replied the figure, in a shrill undertone; and, arising quickly
from the bed, he made a single step toward our hero, while an iron lamp
that depended over-head swung convulsively back from his approach.

The philosopher's amazement did not prevent a narrow scrutiny of the
stranger's dress and appearance.
The outlines of his figure, exceedingly
lean, but much above the common height, were rendered minutely distinct,
by means of a faded suit of black cloth which fitted tight to the skin,
but was otherwise cut very much in the style of a century ago. These
garments had evidently been intended for a much shorter person than
their present owner. His ankles and wrists were left naked for several
inches. In his shoes, however, a pair of very brilliant buckles gave the
lie to the extreme poverty implied by the other portions of his dress.
His head was bare, and entirely bald, with the exception of a hinder
part, from which depended a queue of considerable length. A pair
of green spectacles, with side glasses, protected his eyes from the
influence of the light, and at the same time prevented our hero from
ascertaining either their color or their conformation. About the entire
person there was no evidence of a shirt, but a white cravat, of filthy
appearance, was tied with extreme precision around the throat and
the ends hanging down formally side by side gave (although I dare say
unintentionally) the idea of an ecclesiastic. Indeed, many other points
both in his appearance and demeanor might have very well sustained a
conception of that nature. Over his left ear, he carried, after the
fashion of a modern clerk, an instrument resembling the stylus of the
ancients. In a breast-pocket of his coat appeared conspicuously a
small black volume fastened with clasps of steel. This book, whether
accidentally or not, was so turned outwardly from the person as to
discover the words "Rituel Catholique" in white letters upon the back.
His entire physiognomy was interestingly saturnine--even cadaverously
pale. The forehead was lofty, and deeply furrowed with the ridges
of contemplation. The corners of the mouth were drawn down into an
expression of the most submissive humility. There was also a clasping of
the hands, as he stepped toward our hero--a deep sigh--and altogether a
look of such utter sanctity as could not have failed to be unequivocally
preposessing. Every shadow of anger faded from the countenance of
the metaphysician, as, having completed a satisfactory survey of his
visiter's person, he shook him cordially by the hand, and conducted him
to a seat.