scarcely dared to gaze upon the ghost. He appeared as usual, with the
same transcendental-grey long coat, the same abstract legs, and the same
mathematical face; only this latter was a little yellower than usual,
the mouth, which formerly described two angles of 22-1/2 degrees, was
pinched together, and the circles around the eyes had a somewhat greater
radius. Tottering, and supporting himself as usual upon his Malacca
cane, he approached me, and said in his usual drawling accent but in a
friendly manner, "Do not be afraid, nor believe that I am a ghost. It is
a deception of your imagination, if you believe that you see me as a
ghost. What is a ghost? Define one. Deduce for me the conditions of the
possibility of a ghost. What reasonable connection is there between such
an apparition and reason? Reason, I say, _Reason!"_ Here the ghost
proceeded to analyze reason, cited from Kant's _Critique of Pure
Reason_, part II, section I, book 2, chap. 3, the distinction between
phenomena and noumena, then went on to construct a hypothetical system
of ghosts, piled one syllogism on another, and concluded with the
logical proof that there are absolutely no ghosts. Meanwhile the cold
sweat ran down my back, my teeth clattered like castanets, and from very
agony of soul I nodded an unconditional assent to every assertion which
the phantom doctor alleged against the absurdity of being afraid of
ghosts, and which he demonstrated with such zeal that once, in a moment
of distraction, instead of his gold watch he drew a handful of
grave-worms from his vest-pocket, and remarking his error, replaced them
with a ridiculous but terrified haste. "Reason is the highest--!" Here
the clock struck _one_, but the ghost vanished.

The next morning I left Goslar and wandered along, partly at random, and
partly with the intention of visiting the brother of the Clausthal
miner. Again we had beautiful Sunday weather. I climbed hill and
mountain, saw how the sun strove to drive away the mists, and wandered