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.
