revious display of his abilities. I had little more to throw away
upon any new subject, and looked upon these fresh exhibitions without
experiencing anything beyond a slight surprise.

"And do you," I demanded, as the last named was brought forth, "always
carry those heads about with you?"

"I generally do so for the amusement of my friends," answered he. "But
do not think that my stock is exhausted; I have still a few more that I
can show you--for instance, Pythagoras."

"Pythagoras!" exclaimed I; "no, don't produce him. He is the last of all
the philosophers I would wish to see. The Stoics, the Epicureans, ay,
even the Cynics, with Diogenes or Menippus at their head, were sages
compared with Pythagoras, the founder of the most preposterous system of
philosophy that ever existed."

"My dear friend," said the little man, with unusual gravity, "you do not
say so?"

"I do say so. Pythagoras was a fool, a madman, an impostor."

"You don't speak thus of the divine Pythagoras?" returned he, putting
his bust upon the table.

"No, not of the divine Pythagoras, for such a person never existed. I
speak of Pythagoras the Samian--him of the golden thigh, the founder of
what is called the Pythagorean philosophy."

"And the most rational system of philosophy that ever existed. Begging
your pardon, I think it goes far beyond that of Plato or the Stagyrite."

"If you mean that it goes beyond them in being as full of absurdity as
they are of wisdom, I really agree with you," said I, my anger rising at
hearing the divine doctrines of Aristotle and the disciple of Socrates
so irreverently spoken of.

"Pray, what were its absurdities?" asked he with the most imperturbable
good-nature.

"Did not Pythagoras enjoin silence to his disciples for a period of five
years,--absolute silence, muteness, dumbness?"

"And a very good injunction it was. No man can be philosopher unless he
knows how to keep his tongue under a restraint."

"I am afraid, then, _you_ will never be one," I remarked, forcing a
smile, although I was at bottom considerably nettled. He did not seem to
take my observation ill, but passed it off with one of his
characteristic giggles of laughter.

"You were talking of his absurdities, my dear friend."

"Ah, well, did he not forbid the use of animal food to his followers?
and, to crown all, did he not teach the monstrous doctrine of
transmigration of souls--sending the spirits of men, after death, to
inhabit the