One of my companions came in during a lesson, and at once all the pipes of the humorous jet d’eau were opened:  the “thumblings” and “pointerlings,” the “pickers” and “stealers,” as he used to call the fingers; the “falings” and “galings,” meaning “f” and “g;” the “fielings” and “gielings,” meaning “f” and “g” sharp, [Footnote:  The names of the sharp notes in German terminate in “is,” and hence “f” and “g” sharp are called “fis” and “gis."]—­became once more extant, and made the most wonderful manikins.  My young friend could not leave off laughing, and was rejoiced that one could learn in such a merry manner.  He vowed that he would give his parents no peace until they had given him such an excellent man for a teacher.

And thus the way to two arts was early enough opened to me, according to the principles of a modern theory of education, merely by good luck, and without any conviction that I should be furthered therein by a native talent.  My father maintained that everybody ought to learn drawing; for which reason he especially venerated the Emperor Maximilian, by whom this had been expressly commanded.  He therefore held me to it more steadily than to music; which, on the other hand, he especially recommended to my sister, and even out of the hours for lessons kept her fast, during a good part of the day, at her harpsichord.

But the more I was in this way made to press on, the more I wished to press forward of myself; and my hours of leisure were employed in all sorts of curious occupations.  From my earliest years I felt a love for the investigation of natural things.  It is often regarded as an instinct of cruelty that children like at last to break, tear, and devour objects with which for a long time they have played, and which they have handled in various manners.  Yet even in this way is manifested the curiosity, the desire of learning how such things hang together, how they look within.  I remember, that, when a child, I pulled flowers to pieces to see how the leaves were inserted into the calyx, or even plucked birds to observe how the feathers were inserted into the wings.  Children are not to be blamed for this, when even our naturalists believe they get their knowledge oftener by separation and division than by union and combination,—­more by killing than by making alive.

An armed loadstone, very neatly sewed up in scarlet cloth, was one day destined to experience the effects of this spirit of inquiry.  For the secret force of attraction which it exercised, not only on the little iron bar attached to it, but which was of such a kind that it could gain strength and could daily bear a heavier weight,—­this mysterious virtue had so excited my admiration, that for a long time I was pleased with merely staring at its operation.  But at last I thought I might arrive at some nearer revelation by tearing away the external covering.  This was done; but I became no wiser in consequence, as the naked iron taught me nothing further.  This also I took off; and I held in my hand the mere stone, with which I never grew weary of making experiments of various kinds on filings and needles,—­experiments from which my youthful mind drew no further advantage beyond that of a varied experience.  I could not manage to reconstruct the whole arrangement:  the parts were scattered, and I lost the wondrous phenomenon at the same time with the apparatus.