Specimens of German Romance; Vol. II. Master Flea. Эрнст Гофман
blinkers than be led aside by any odorous shrub or blooming meadow that grows by the way. It was, however, true that Peregrine had many things about him which people could not comprehend.
It has been already said that his father was a rich and respectable merchant; when to this is added that he owned a handsome house in the Horse-market, and that in this house, in the very same chamber where the little Peregrine had always received his Christmas-boxes, the grown-up Peregrine was now receiving them, there is no room to doubt that the place of the strange adventures to be narrated in this history is the celebrated city of Frankfort on the Maine. Of his parents little more is to be told than that they were quiet honest folks, of whom no one could speak any thing but good. The unbounded esteem which Mr. Tyss enjoyed upon 'Change he owed to two circumstances; he always speculated well and safely, gaining one sum after the other; while at the same time he never presumed, but remained modest as before, and made no boast of his wealth, which he showed merely by his haggling about nothing, and being indulgence itself towards insolvent debtors who had fallen into misfortune, even though it were deservedly.
For a long time the marriage of Mr. Tyss was unfruitful, till at length, after almost twenty years, Mrs. Tyss rejoiced her husband with a fine lusty boy, who was our identical Master Peregrine Tyss. The boundless joy of the elders may be imagined, and the people of Frankfort yet talk of the splendid christening given by the old Tyss, at which the noblest hock was filled out as if at a coronation festival. But what added still more to the posthumous fame of Mr. Tyss was, that he invited to this christening a couple of people who, in their enmity, had often injured him; and not only them, but others too whom he thought he had injured; so that the feast was really one of peace and reconciliation.
Alas! the good man did not suspect that this same child, whose birth so much rejoiced him, would soon be a cause of sorrow. At the very first, the boy Peregrine showed a singular disposition. After he had cried night and day uninterruptedly for some weeks, without their being able to find out any bodily ailment, he became on the sudden quite quiet and as it were stupified into a motionless insensibility: he seemed incapable of the least impression. The little brow, which appeared to belong to a lifeless puppet, was wrinkled neither by tears nor laughter. His mother maintained that it was owing, on her part, to the sight of the old book-keeper, who had for twenty years sat in the counting-house before the great cash-book, with the same lifeless countenance; and she wept bitter tears over the little automaton.
At last an old gossip hit upon the lucky thought of bringing Peregrine a very motley, and, in fact, a very ugly harlequin. The child's eyes quickened in a strange fashion, the mouth contracted to a gentle smile, he caught at the puppet, and, the moment it was given to him, hugged it tenderly. Then again he gazed upon the manikin with such intelligent and speaking eyes, that it seemed as if reason and sensation had suddenly awakened in him, and with much greater vigour than is usual with children of his age.
"He is too wise," said the godmother; "you'll not keep him. Only look at his eyes; he already thinks more than he ought to do."
This declaration greatly comforted the old merchant, who had in some measure reconciled himself to the idea of having begot an idiot, after so many years of fruitless expectation. Soon, however, he fell into a fresh trouble; and this was, that the time had long since gone by in which children usually begin to speak, and yet Peregrine had not uttered a syllable. The boy would have been thought dumb, but that he often gazed on the person who spoke to him with such attention, nay even showed such sympathy by sad as well as by joyful looks, that there could be no doubt not only of his hearing, but of his understanding, every thing.
In the meantime his mother was mightily astonished at finding what the nurse had told her confirmed. At night, when the boy lay in bed and fancied himself unnoticed, he talked to himself single words, and even whole sentences, and so little broken that a long practice might be inferred from this perfection. Heaven has lent to women a certain tact of reading human nature as its growth variously developes itself, on which account, for the first years at least of childhood, they are the best educators. According to this tact, Mrs. Tyss was far from letting the boy see he was observed, or from wishing to force him to speak; she rather contrived to bring it about by other dexterous means, that he should of himself no longer keep concealed the beautiful talent of speech, but should slowly, yet plainly, manifest it to the world, and to the wonder of all. Still, however, he evinced a constant aversion to talking, and was most pleased when they left him in quiet by himself.
Thus was Mr. Tyss freed from all anxiety on account of his want of tongue, but it was only to fall into a much greater care afterwards. When Peregrine had grown a boy and ought to have learnt stoutly, it seemed as if nothing was to be driven into him without the greatest trouble. It was with his writing and reading as it had been with his talking; at first the matter could not be compassed at all, and then on a sudden he did it admirably, and beyond all expectation. In the meantime one master after another left the house, not from dislike to the boy, but because they could not enter into his disposition. Peregrine was still, mannerly, and industrious, and yet it was no use thinking of any systematic learning with him; he had understanding for that only which happened to chime in exactly with his genius; all the rest passed over him without leaving any impression: and that which suited his genius was the wonderful,–all that excited his imagination; in that he lived and moved. So, for example, he once received a present of a sketch of Pekin, with all its streets, houses, &c. which occupied the entire wall of his chamber. At the sight of this city of fables, of the singular people that seemed to crowd through its streets, Peregrine felt as if transported by some magic sleight into another world, in which he was to become at home. With eagerness he now fell upon every thing that he could get hold of respecting China, the Chinese, and Pekin; and having somewhere found the Chinese sounds described, he laboured to pronounce them according to the description, with a fine chanting voice; nay, he even endeavoured, by means of the paper-scissors, to give his handsome calimanco bed-gowns the Chinese cut as much as possible, that he might have the pleasure of walking the streets of Pekin in the fashion. Nothing else could excite his attention–to the great annoyance of his tutor, who just then wished to instil into him the history of the Hanseatic League, according to the express wish of Mr. Tyss; but the old gentleman found to his sorrow, that Peregrine was not to be brought out of Pekin, wherefore he brought Pekin out of the boy's chamber.
The elder Mr. Tyss had always considered it a bad omen that Peregrine, as a little child, should prefer counters to ducats, and next should manifest a decided abhorrence of moneybags, ledgers, and waste books. But what seemed most singular was, that he never could hear the word "bill of exchange" pronounced without having his teeth set on edge, and he assured them that he felt at the sound as if some one was scratching up and down a pane of glass with the point of a knife. Mr. Tyss, therefore, could not help seeing that his son was spoilt for a merchant, and however he might wish to have him treading in his footsteps, yet he readily gave up this desire, under the idea that Peregrine would apply himself to some decided occupation. It was a maxim of his, that the richest man ought to have an employment, and thereby a settled station in life; people with no occupation were an abomination to him, and it was precisely to this no-occupation that his son was entirely devoted, with all the knowledge which he had picked up in his own way, and which lay chaotically confounded in his brain. This was now the greatest and most pressing anxiety of Mr. Tyss. Peregrine wished to know nothing of the actual world, the old man lived in that only; from which contradiction it could not but be that, the older Peregrine grew, the worse became the discord between father and son, to the no little sorrow of the mother: she cordially conceded to Peregrine, who was otherwise the best of sons, his mode of life, in mere dreams and fancies, though to her indeed unintelligible, and she could not conceive why her husband would positively impose upon him a decided occupation.
By the advice of tried friends, Tyss sent his son to the university of Jena, but when, after three years, he returned, the old man exclaimed, full of wrath and vexation, "Did I not think so? Hans the dreamer he went away, Hans the dreamer he comes back again." And so far he was quite right, for the student was substantially unaltered. Still he did not give up all hope of bringing the degenerate Peregrine to reason, thinking that if he were once forced into some employment, he might, perhaps, change his mind in the end, and take a pleasure in it. With this view he sent him to Hamburgh, with commissions that did not require any particular knowledge of business, and moreover commended him to a friend there,