CHAPTER X.GOETHE IN BERLIN.
"I wish I only knew whether it were a man, or whether the god Apollo has really appeared to me in human form," sighed Conrector Moritz, as he paced his room--a strange, gloomy apartment, quite in keeping with the singular occupant--gray walls, with Greek apothegms inscribed upon them in large letters--dirty windows, pasted over with strips of paper; high, open book-shelves, containing several hundred books, some neatly arranged, others thrown together in confusion.

In the midst of a chaos of books and papers stood a colossal bust of the Apollo-Belvedere upon a table near the window, the whiteness and beauty of which were in singular contrast, to the dust and disorder which surrounded it.
At the back of the room was an open wardrobe, filled with gay-colored garments.

A beautiful carpet of brilliant colors covered the middle of the dirty floor, and upon this paced to and fro the strange occupant of this strange room, Philip Charles Moritz, conrector of the college attached to the Gray Monastery.

There was no trace of the bearing and demeanor which distinguished him at the parade at Potsdam yesterday--no trace of the young elegant, dressed in the latest fashion.

To-day he wore a white garment, of no particular style, tied at the neck with a red ribbon (full sleeves, buttoned at the wrist with lace-cuffs); and, falling from the shoulders in scanty folds to just below the knees, it displayed his bare legs, and his feet shod with red sandals.
His hair was unpowdered, and not tied in a cue, according to the fashion, but hung in its natural brown color, flowing quite loosely, merely confined by a red ribbon wound in among his curls, and hanging down in short bows at each temple like the frontlet of the old Romans.
Thus, in this singular costume, belonging half to old Adam, and half to the old Romans, Philip Moritz walked back and forth upon the carpet, ruminating upon the beaming beauty of the stranger whose acquaintance he had so recently made, and whom he could not banish from his thoughts.
"What wicked demon induced me to go to Potsdam yesterday ?" said he to himself.