A Man's Limits
I was on the point of asking him what that work might be, but something in his manner showed me that the question would be an unwelcome one. I pondered over our short conversation, however, and endeavoured to draw my deductions from it.
He said that he would acquire no knowledge which did not bear upon his object. Therefore all the knowledge which he possessed was such as would be useful to him. I enumerated in my own mind all the various points upon which he had shown me that he was exceptionally well-informed. I even took a pencil and jotted them down. I could not help smiling at the document when I had completed it. It ran in this way –
SHERLOCK HOLMES -- his limits.
1. Knowledge of: Literature. -- Nil.
2. Philosophy. -- Nil.
3. Astronomy. -- Nil.
4. Politics. -- Feeble.
5. Botany. -- Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium, and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening.
6. Geology. -- Practical, but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks has shown me splashes upon his trousers, and told me by their colour and consistence in what part of London he had received them.
7. Chemistry. -- Profound.
8. Anatomy. -- Accurate, but unsystematic.
9. Sensational Literature. -- Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century.
10. Plays the violin well.
11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman.
12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.
When I had got so far in my list I threw it into the fire in despair – I should never be able to fathom my newest friend nor his peculiarly secretive occupation. It would remain a mystery until he saw fit to enlighten me.
-- (The blasted site's line thing still doesn't work; so here, use your imagination to pretend this is a horizontal line; my apologies!) --
I watched with some amusement as the Doctor was about to ask me what were probably very pointed and personal questions. But as I had already deduced about him, he was too much a gentleman to push his way into anyone's confidences, and especially not into a new acquaintance's.
Personally I should not have minded his asking, but it is not in my nature to volunteer any personal information, even something as innocuous as my profession. I wondered if he would find my occupation interesting – he had an incurably romantic streak and appeared to have led rather a swashbuckling life up to his unfortunate experiences in Afghanistan and India.
Unfortunate for him, but fortunate for me. I could not ask for a less obtrusive flatmate – I had been very much distrusting of the idea of sharing a house with anyone; the very notion was repellant to me.
But I had recognized the necessity of gaining lodgings that would be conducive to picking up more business, for my tiny rooms at Montague Street did not attract clients of any monetary value. Hence my reluctant but inevitable search for a roommate, and I had been very much relieved at the ease with which the transition had been made.
I had been able to draw many inferences about the man, and I found myself fascinated by his simple honesty but his thoughtful insight into many matters of which I knew little.
As is my habit, I occupied my spare time one evening while we were lounging about the sitting room by making a list of deductions concerning what I knew so far of the man, even going so far as to jot them down on a piece of paper as I sat scribbling absently at my desk.
DR. JOHN WATSON – his limits.
1. Knowledge of: Literature. – Varied. Prefers Clark Russell sea stories and overly romanticized mystery/adventure novels to more classic works like Plato and Goethe. Has five whole shelves of books scattered round the apartment – must remember to speak to him about the ones cluttering up the mantelpiece.
2. Philosophy. – Has some fascinating ideas that I very much enjoy discussing over dinner of the evenings. Quite a deep thinker, actually.
3. Astronomy. – Apparently extensive. Gave me a rather detailed and very earnest lecture on the Copernican theory versus the Ptolemaic theory of the solar system yesterday.
4. Politics. – Enough to discuss intelligently. Average for an Englishman who has been absent from the country for an extended period of time.
5. Botany. – The usual for a medical doctor; can identify most of my poisons at a glance. This might be useful in future if he is to eventually take an interest in my profession.
6. Geology. – Next to nothing. Is quite amazed upon my deductions regarding soil and ash from about London. Rather gratifying to have someone so in awe of a very simple ability such as mine.
7. Chemistry. – Average. Can identify most of my chemicals and is aware enough not to touch the volatile ones. Takes a keen interest in my experiments and knows enough to intelligently discuss results with me.
8. Anatomy. – Better than my own, I must admit. Of course, that is rather a major part of his profession.
9. Sensational Literature. – Poor. Misses every clue of any importance in a case and focuses instead upon the sensationalism or romance of the crime instead of the facts. Reads the newspaper for enjoyment rather than instruction, as he should do.
10. Is quiet and easy-going, but I have seen indications of a rather hot temper dormant under that amiable exterior. Hidden fires, indeed.
11. Is more tolerant of my habits than anyone I have yet encountered, bless him.
12. Is far more intelligent that he gives himself credit for being; takes a genuine interest in me and my work that I find more and more flattering as the days go by.
13. Is ridiculously proud and stubborn. Would not accept help from me while moving in, even though his shoulder was obviously making lifting boxes difficult. Also has a high pain tolerance and is quite adept at hiding it from others not as observant as myself.
I glanced over the list in some amusement, wondering why in the world I had indulged in such a fanciful flight into wordplay – I hoped desperately for a case soon or I should go mad with boredom. I crumpled up the list and stuffed the ball of paper into my pocket as I rose to get my pipe.
My gaze fell upon my new – had I actually just nearly said the word friend? – my new fellow-lodger as he sat in his chair on the left side of the fireplace, immersed and completely oblivious to the world in one of his confounded yellow-backed novels.
And that feeling that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now returned with full force as I wondered how long it would be before he either guessed, deduced, or came out and asked me what my profession was. I smiled as I pictured his incredulity upon hearing it. But some elusive feeling was pricking the back of my mind and refusing to leave me.
The feeling that perhaps I was not the only observer in the room.
-- As the astute reader no doubt will have deduced already, the first half of this (with the exception of the last paragraph) was taken from STUDY. Therefore, the logical deduction is that I did not write that part. --