A Study In Scarlet | Page 7

upon the sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or
moving a muscle from morning to night. On these occasions I have
noticed such a dreamy, vacant expression in his eyes, that I might have
suspected him of being addicted to the use of some narcotic, had not
the temperance and cleanliness of his whole life forbidden such a
notion.
As the weeks went by, my interest in him and my curiosity as to his
aims in life, gradually deepened and increased. His very person and
appearance were such as to strike the attention of the most casual
observer. In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean
that he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp and
piercing, save during those intervals of torpor to which I have alluded;
and his thin, hawk-like nose gave his whole expression an air of
alertness and decision. His chin, too, had the prominence and
squareness which mark the man of determination. His hands were
invariably blotted with ink and stained with chemicals, yet he was
possessed of extraordinary delicacy of touch, as I frequently had
occasion to observe when I watched him manipulating his fragile
philosophical instruments.
The reader may set me down as a hopeless busybody, when I confess
how much this man stimulated my curiosity, and how often I
endeavoured to break through the reticence which he showed on all that
concerned himself. Before pronouncing judgment, however, be it
remembered, how objectless was my life, and how little there was to
engage my attention. My health forbade me from venturing out unless
the weather was exceptionally genial, and I had no friends who would
call upon me and break the monotony of my daily existence. Under
these circumstances, I eagerly hailed the little mystery which hung
around my companion, and spent much of my time in endeavouring to
unravel it.
He was not studying medicine. He had himself, in reply to a question,
confirmed Stamford's opinion upon that point. Neither did he appear to

have pursued any course of reading which might fit him for a degree in
science or any other recognized portal which would give him an
entrance into the learned world. Yet his zeal for certain studies was
remarkable, and within eccentric limits his knowledge was so
extraordinarily ample and minute that his observations have fairly
astounded me. Surely no man would work so hard or attain such
precise information unless he had some definite end in view. Desultory
readers are seldom remarkable for the exactness of their learning. No
man burdens his mind with small matters unless he has some very good
reason for doing so.
His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge. Of contemporary
literature, philosophy and politics he appeared to know next to nothing.
Upon my quoting Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest way who
he might be and what he had done. My surprise reached a climax,
however, when I found incidentally that he was ignorant of the
Copernican Theory and of the composition of the Solar System. That
any civilized human being in this nineteenth century should not be
aware that the earth travelled round the sun appeared to be to me such
an extraordinary fact that I could hardly realize it.
"You appear to be astonished," he said, smiling at my expression of
surprise. "Now that I do know it I shall do my best to forget it."
"To forget it!"
"You see," he explained, "I consider that a man's brain originally is like
a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you
choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across,
so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out,
or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things so that he has a
difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very
careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have
nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of
these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is a
mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to
any extent. Depend upon it there comes a time when for every addition
of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. It is of the

highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out
the useful ones."
"But the Solar System!" I protested.
"What the deuce is it to me?" he interrupted impatiently; "you say that
we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a
pennyworth of difference to me or to