Like every one who loves Nature and flowers, he was fond of children.
We called him "Uncle Lenne," and often walked down our street hand in
hand with him.
It is well known that the part of the city on the other side of the
Potsdam Gate was called the "Geheimerath-Quarter." Our street, it is
true, lay nearer to the Brandenburg Gate, yet it really belonged to that
section; for there was not a single house without at least one
Geheimerath (Privy Councillor).
Yet this superabundance of men in "secret" positions lent no touch of
mystery to our cheerful street, shaded by the green of the forest.
Franker, gayer, sometimes noisier children than its residents could not
be found in Berlin. I was only a little fellow when we lived there, and
merely tolerated in the "big boys'" sports, but it was a festival when,
with Ludo, I could carry their provisions for them or even help them make
fireworks. The old Rechnungsrath, who lived in the house owned by
Geheimerath Crede, the father of my Leipsic colleague, was their
instructor in this art, which was to prove disastrous to my oldest
brother and bright Paul Seiffart; for--may they pardon me the treachery--
they took one of the fireworks to school, where--I hope accidentally--it
went off. At first this caused much amusement, but strict judgment
followed, and led to my mother's resolution to send her oldest son away
from home to some educational institution.
The well-known teacher, Adolph Diesterweg, whose acquaintance she had
made at the house of a friend, recommended Keilhau, and so our little
band was deprived of the leader to whom Ludo and I had looked up with a
certain degree of reverence on account of his superior strength, his bold
spirit of enterprise, and his kindly condescension to us younger ones.
After his departure the house was much quieter, but we did not forget
him; his letters from Keilhau were read aloud to us, and his descriptions
of the merry school days, the pedestrian tours, and sleigh-rides awakened
an ardent longing in Ludo and myself to follow him.
Yet it was so delightful with my mother, the sun around which our little
lives revolved! I had no thought, performed no act, without wondering
what would be her opinion of it; and this intimate relation, though in an
altered form, continued until her death. In looking backward I may
regard it as a law of my whole development that my conduct was regulated
according to the more or less close mental and outward connection in
which I stood with her. The storm and stress period, during which my
effervescent youthful spirits led me into all sorts of follies, was the
only time in my life in which this close connection threatened to be
loosened. Yet Fate provided that it should soon be welded more firmly
than ever. When she died, a beloved wife stood by my side, but she was
part of myself; and in my mother Fate seemed to have robbed me of the
supreme arbitrator, the high court of justice, which alone could judge my
acts.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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