Dedication
I OFFER THIS TRIBUTE OF GRATITUDE AND LOVE,
AT THE CENTENARY OF HIS BIRTH,
PEE FACE.
Chapter I. Life At Zurich
riTTHE early years of a man's life have great influence in moulding _IL his character. As the pilot with a slight turning of his wheel changes the direction of the heavily laden ship, so events apparently insignificant in themselves, acting upon the impressible nature of a child, may affect his entire destiny. It is said of Haydn, that the sweet singing' of his mother beside his cradle called forth that talent for music which distinguished him in after life. The father of Linnaeus, the distinguished Swedish botanist, used to cover the bed of his beloved boy with flowers, thus cultivating in him at that early age a love for those fair productions. It is true that talent, a gift of the Creator, has never been produced by circumstances; but it is also true that powers which might otherwise have slumbered forever, have, in many cases, been awakened and led into action by events which, in themselves, were trifling.
The life of the man whose work we are about to examine affords an illustration of the effects of early associations in determining character and shaping the subsequent events of life.
Henry Pestalozzi was born on the 12th of January, 1746, at Zurich, a toAvn situated in the German part of Switzerland, on the lovely shore of a lake of the same name. His ancestors were Italian Protestants, who had been obliged to flee from their homes on account of religions persecutions, and had found an asylum among the enlightened citizens of Zurich — hence his Italian name. His father was a physician, whose benevolent and unselfish character prevented him from devoting his energies to the acquisition of wealth.
Henry was but six years old when his father died, and his good mother, although not wholly destitute, was obliged to practice the utmost economy to sustain the dignity of the family. She withdrew from the allurements of society, and consecrated herself to domestic duties ; thus giving her children the invaluable blessing of her constant cai-e and supervision. In this task she was nobly supported by a faithful servant, who made the interest of her mistress's family her own. Pestalozzi gives the following account of this friend of his childhood :
" When my father was on his death-bed, he thought sorrowfully of the great burden which the attendance to household duties and the care of the children would throw upon my mother. In these desponding moments he turned to Barbara, the faithful servant, and begged her with fervent entreaty not to leave his family, since otherwise the mother must part with some of his children.
"The noble girl replied, 'I shall never leave your wife, if it should please God to take you hence. I will remain with her till death, if she wishes me to do so.' "
She kept her promise, and spent her whole life in the family. Her education being limited, she could contribute but little to the mental development of the children, of whom there were three, besides Henry; but her example of self-sacrifice and of practical morality left indelible impressions on the hearts of all.
"When we wanted to run about the streets for our amusement," says Pestalozzi, "she wished us to stay at home, and save our clothing and shoes ; and when we found it hard to obey, she told us of our good mother, who deprived herself of so many enjoyments for our sake."
The sacrifices of a mother for her children do not show more nobility of soul than was displayed by tin's poor, uneducated girl, who gave up all her worldly interest for a family not her own. "Who knows," says Biber in his biography of Pestalozzi, "whether this purity and strength of character shown by a person of humble rank may not have imposed a debt on Pestalozzi, of which he nobly acquitted himself in after years by vindicating for the neglected classes of society those moral and intellectual rights of which they had been deprived by the ignorant pride of their fellow men?"
Pestalozzi, who was in his youth delicate and sickly, had a nervous temperament, winch delighted in mental activity. He says of himself : "My feelings and imagination were so predominant that I neglected many things. I often committed blunders, which got me into more scrapes and troubles than any other child of my age; but I possessed a light heart, which made me forget my small sufferings after a few hours." These traits of character were fully displayed in his work at school, for he never excelled in any of those branches which tax merely imitation and memory. He preferred those in which the full imagination, originality, and poetry of soul could be brought into play. Among other things, he neglected orthography and penmanship, and
LIFE AT ZURICH.
his defects in these caused serious inconvenience to him during all his after life. In classical studies he cared more for the spirit of the writer than for the grammar; more for the thought than the expression. It is said, that when a student he made a translation of an oration of Demosthenes, which was so excellent that it was afterward published in a scientific journal.
Owing to the awkwardness of his manner and the singularity of his character, he passed among his school-fellows as "green," and received
View of Zurich.
the nickname "Henry Queer, of Folly ville." He had then and ever afterward such perfect faith, that he was often made the butt of jokes and the dupe of cunning schemes. He measured the world by his own standard, and preferred to be deceived rather than to distrust. It is the fate of such confiding souls to be ridiculed for their simplicity, yet loved for their goodness.
Considering that the character and method of teaching used in the schools at that time was formal and mechanical, it may be inferred that it did little toward preparing him for his important mission ; yet we do not wish to undervalue the merit of such men as Bodmer and Breitinger, who were then among the professors of his native city.
In his visits to his grandfather, a Protestant minister at Hoengg, he profited much by the practical lessons of benevolence which he there received. Uniting system with generosity, the old gentleman kept a register of all the families of the parish, in which the moral character, circumstances, and wants of each were described ; thus, in his parochial visits he could not fail to administer advice and consolation according to the needs of each case. In this village, where many mills were in active operation, he first witnessed the contrast between extreme wealth and abject poverty. He saw the children of the village playing before the school-house, with eyes sparkling with pleasure and innocence, contented and happy even in their rags ; but when he compared them with those of more mature age, the victims of overwork and manifold vices, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, and with the appearance of constant misery upon their faces, his young soul was incensed against the selfishness of wealth built upon such ruins of health and happiness. What he daily saw of the oppression of the people under an aristocratic government, and the acts of injustice committed under its sway, nurtured in his breast that yearning for liberty and reformation which earned for him afterward the name of a noble-minded patriot and true liberal.
There are individuals who, from the mildness of their disposition and from their aversion to personal quarrels, are commonly considered cowards ; and yet these same people display occasionally an energy and courage which is in strong contrast to their usual behavior. Pestalozzi exhibited such antagonistic qualities. In the year 1755, the earthquake which destroyed Lisbon was felt in Switzerland. The school-room in which the young Henry was studying was violently shaken. The fright was universal. "The teachers," as Pestalozzi describes it in his quaint language, "flew down stairs over the heads of their boys." After the first terror had subsided, they wished to obtain the books, hats, and other property left in the building, but all were afraid to enter except " Harry Queer." He boldly performed the task which his companions refused to do. This boldness we find marked in his perhaps incautious opposition to acts of injustice and oppression imposed by some of the dignitaries of the state. When only a boy in years, in connection with his celebrated cotemporaries, Lavater and Fiissli, he exposed, by means of the press, the delinquencies of selfish politicians, thereby rousing their anger, and imperiling his future chances for advancement.
In his choice of a profession, encouraged by his venerable grandfather, it seems natural that he should have decided for the ministry. His first efforts at preaching, however, proved a failure. Those who had witnessed his natural eloquence, proceeding, as it did, from a heart deeply impressed with a sense of veneration for all that is pure
LIFE AT ZURICH. 17
and holy, ana breathing love and good-will for all mankind, were astonished at the cause which he assigned for relinquishing his chosen calling — that he stopped short in his sermon and made mistakes in the Lord's Prayer. This arose probably from embarrassment, which made the young minister forget the sermon which he had been obliged to commit to memory. More likely, however, it was an exalted idea of the proper qualifications of a clergyman, compared with his own humble merits, which induced him to exchange the study of Theology for that of Law. In doing this he avoided Scylla only to fall into Charybdis. We can not imagine that an ardent mind like his, desiring to judge all matters according to the eternal laws of justice, could be satisfied with expounding human laws, when their interpreters had, by quibbles and distortions, adapted them to all the iniquities of a corrupt age. If he had explained the law according to the noble and fiery impulse of his soul, and not according to the dead-letter and stereotyped form, he would have expiated his temerity in a political prison, or in some place of banishment, His study of the law must, therefore, have produced negative results by showing him the insufficiency of human legislation to do away with abuses, unless supported by principles of charity and justice.
About this time, 1764, "Emile," a celebrated work on Education, by Rousseau, fell into his hands. This led his thoughts into that channel from which were to issue immortal ideas for universal education. The principles of that work tended to overturn the prevalent notions of methods of teaching. They suggested facts and realities instead of empty sounds and superficial definitions — thus appealing to common sense. The fact, however, that Rousseau represents his ideal pupil, Emile, isolated and without school-companions, could not harmonize with the views of a philanthropist like Pestalozzi.
Bluntschli, an intimate friend, who possessed great forethought, when on his death-bed, said to his friend Pestalozzi, "I die, and I warn you, if left to yourself, never to embark in any operation which might become dangerous to your peace of mind, because of the simplicity and tenderness of your disposition. Select a quiet and peaceful occupation, and do not enter into any comprehensive undertaking without the advice and assistance of a faithful friend." The .suitableness of this advice will be evident to every one who follows us through the vicissitudes of his eventful life.
Soon after this he visited his uncle, and enjoyed the charms of rural life on the shores of Lake Zurich. His stay there, combined with the advice of his dying friend, may have matured the new plan P. 2.
of devoting himself to agriculture, and retiring to the seclusion of a country farm. In order to combine practice with theory, he resorted to the flourishing farm of a rich proprietor, celebrated for his improved methods of cultivation, and prepared himself for his new task with his usual zeal. But he never acquired the practical skill, and power of adapting his means to existing circumstances, which are indispensable requisites to the successful practice of farming.
About this time, also, he formed acquaintance with that noble woman, Anna Schulthess, who stood so faithfully by his side during the trials of his agitated life. She belonged to a wealthy family of Zurich, and the desire of securing a home for her stimulated him to unusual exertions. He returned from an agricultural tour with sanguine projects about the cultivation of madder as a profitable speculation. He even induced a mercantile house at Zurich to supply him with funds for the purpose. He selected and bought an uncultivated tract of about one hundred acres, situated in the Canton of Aargau, near the confluence of the rivers Aar, Reuss, and Limmat. He named his purchase Neuhof (new farm). There, in sight of Hapsburg, the hereditary castle of the Austrian Monarchy, he built a house in the Italian style, and began his operations with more zeal than skill and foresight. From this place he corresponded with the lady above mentioned. The letter, in which he offers her his hand and invites her to share his fortunes, is so characteristic of the man's honesty and delicacy of feeling that we quote it nearly entire :
"My failings, which appear to me the most important in relation to the future, are improvidence, want of caution, and want of that presence of mind which is necessary to meet unexpected changes in my future prospects. I hope, by continued exertions, to overcome them ; but know that I possess them still to a degree, that does not allow me to conceal them from the maiden I love. They are faults, my dear, which deserve your fullest consideration. I possess yet other failings, which must be chiefly attributed to my irritability of temper and oversensitiveness. I go to extremes in my praise, as well as in my blame ; in my likings, and dislikings. I also enter into plans and schemes with such fervor as to exceed proper limits, and my general sympathy is such, that I feel unhappy in the misery of my fatherland and friends. Direct your whole attention to this weakness ; there will be times when my tranquillity and cheerfulness of soul will suffer under it. .......
"Of my great and very reprehensible negligence in matters of etiquette and conventionality, it is useless to speak, as it is too obvi-
LIFE AT ZURICH. 19
ous. I am further bound to confess, that I shall place the duties toward my fatherland in advance of those to my wife, and that, although I mean to be a tender husband, I shall be inexorable even to the tears of .my wife, if they should ever try to detain me from performing my duties as citizen, to their fullest extent. My wife shall be the confidant of my heart, the partner of all my most secret counsel. A great and holy simplicity shall reign in my house. One thing more, my life will not pass without great and important undertakings. I shall never refrain from speaking, when the good of my country demands it. My whole heart belongs to it, and I shall risk every thing to mitigate the misery and need of my countrymen.
"Reflect well, and decide whether you can give your heart to a man with these qualities, and in this condition, and be happy.
"My dear friend, I love you so tenderly and fervently that this confession has cost me much, since it may even take from me the hope of winning you. My conscience would have called me a traitor, not a lover, if I had withheld from you any fact that might cause you future anxiety, or render you miserable. I now rejoice at what I have done. If the circumstances in which my duty and my country may place me hereafter, should make an end to my yearnings and hopes, I shall be conscious at least of not having been treacherous — of not having attempted to please you by assumed virtue. I have deceived you with no chimerical hopes of a happiness that is not to be expected; I have concealed from you no danger and no sorrow for the future ; I have no cause for self-reproach."
The lady was worthy of his confidence. Although the candid confessions of the faults of her lover presented but a thorny prospect of life, they could not shake her belief in his disinterested love and integrity of character. They were united in the year 1769, Pestalozzi being then in his 24th year.
With the noble and intelligent lady, who shared with him her ample property, he might have lived in comparative ease and comfort, had he thought only of his own interests. But having the weakness of considering all the suffering members of the human race as belonging to his own family, it may be presumed that his life at Neuhof did not pass without dark and bitter experiences.
Chapter II Life At Neuhof
View of Neuhof.
THE dreams of a happy future, of days to be spent in genial and profitable employment at the side of a loving wife, were soon dispelled by cares and disappointments. Pestalozzi's undertaking required patience, practical skill, and, above all, order, system, and the utmost economy ; but, as has been stated, he was not of a practical turn, and not inspired by the expectation of gain and profit. Some, professing to be his friends, even accused him, though unjustly, of ignorance in selecting a piece of land which, they said, was "unfit for cultivation." Although this charge was sufficiently refuted by the fact that some years afterward it rose to many times its original value, it nevertheless frightened the managers of the mercantile (20)
house which had supplied him with money, and induced them to withdraw from the undertaking. Thus Pestalozzi was left alone to grapple with financial difficulties which beset him on all sides. Instead, however, of concentrating his energies on his own affairs, he felt he could only revive his shattered spirits by performing an act of charity and devotion.
The support of the poor is still a question of vital interest to the governments of Europe, and it was particularly so during the years immediately preceding the French Revolution. At that time, the wealth of the country was exclusively in the hands of the privileged classes, while the poor toiled for insufficient wages, with no thought for the future. They thus became a sure prey for the workhouse, and a burden upon the community. The introduction of cotton manufactures had rendered the contrast between employer and workman still more striking. This, making money more plenty, brought into common use things which had been considered as luxuries ; and the poor, in attempting to keep pace with the rich, gradually forgot all principles of economy, became intemperate and wasteful, and were consequently often reduced to helpless poverty.
The only relief for this suffering supplied by the Government was the introduction of poor-houses, where the innocent child and hardened sinner, the helpless sick and shiftless vagabond, were herded together. They were, in fact, mere feeding establishments, rather than homes for the unfortunate, or houses of reform for the wicked. The occupants, when dismissed, usually returned to their vicious practices, which soon brought them back again.
It was for this growing evil that the ever-active mind of Pestalozzi tried to find a remedy. He proposed the establishment of schools in which instruction in manual labor should be combined with the ordinary mental and moral training. After having advocated his views publicly, he offered his house and farm for the purpose of making the experiment. He soon found noble-hearted and influential friends who encouraged him in his undertaking, and, in 177."), we find him at the head of an "Industrial School for the Poor," probably the first school of its kind ever conceived, and the mother of hundreds now existing on both sides of the Atlantic.
To make such a seheme a success was certainly no light undertaking, and to a man like Pestalozzi it was impossible ; for it is obvious that to combine in one person the offices of manager, school-master, farmer, manufacturer, and merchant, was beyond the power of a man whose enthusiasm and impatient zeal carried him with irresistible power in pursuit of one grand object, and would not allow him to stop and measure every inch of ground over which he had to go.
The children sent to him were mostly from the refuse of the community, and nearly all of them vicious, lazy, and discontented. True, they worked on his farm, but with feeble and unskilled hands, which conduced little to the improvement of the soil. They were also engaged in the weaving of cotton cloth, but the waste in material and the mediocrity of the work more than balanced the profits. As a natural consequence of these conditions, Pestalozzi soon became involved in debt, from which he was partially relieved by the generosity of his wife, who sacrificed the greater part of her property in his behalf. He struggled a long time in the noble cause of emancipating the poor, and in the end became poor himself. In the process, however, he made important discoveries in the realm of human knowledge, and in the principles which underlie all true processes of education — results which have transmuted his individual disappointments and failures into blessings for the world. To see truth through the vail of one's own errors is already victory.
In 1780 the school had to be given up. In spite of its apparent failure, the feasibility of the plan has since been triumphantly vindicated by Emanuel von Fellenberg, a friend and cotemporary of Pestalozzi, to whom we shall again revert. After five years of ineffectual toiling, the latter was left alone, poor and discouraged, an object of pity to his friends and of contempt to his detractors.
The natural buoyancy of his spirits, however, did not allow him to give himself up to despair. He says: "In the midst of the withering sneers of my fellow-men, the mighty stream of my heart ebbed and flowed as it ever had, to stop the sources of misery. My failure even showed me the truth of my plans. I was always deceived where nobody was; and where all were deceived, there I saw light."
Let those who have met with financial losses listen to Pestalozzi's words of resignation uttered at that time: " The Christian in the strength of faith and love considers his property — not as a gift — but as a trust, which has been committed to his hand, that he may use it for the good of others." Truly he needed this strength from above ; for the loss of his funds involved the loss of the most common comforts of life. In the midst of this, his noble wife was prostrated with a severe illness, which added greatly to his distress.
At tins time, from necessity as well as from choice, he began to write articles for a Swiss journal, and to publish books in which lie appealed to the public to bestow their attention upon some of the most sacred interests of humanity. From 1780 to 1798 were published the following books: "The Evening Hours of a Hermit;" "Leonard and Gertrude;" "Christopher and Eliza;" "Legislation and Infanticide;" "Figures to my Spelling-Book;" "Investigations on the Course of Nature in the Development of the Human Race."
Although these writings are all distinguished by originality and thought, and inspired by philanthropy, not one of them has made a greater impression and acquired more celebrity than "Leonard and Gertrude" — a popular tale, the scenes of which are so fresh and life-like that they at once enlist the feelings of the reader by presenting a picture of exalted virtue in the midst of crime and error. The circumstances to which this work owes its origin are not without interest. Fiissli, a book-seller of Zurich and friend of Pestalozzi, once mentioned, in conversation with his brother, the artist, the sad condition of the philanthropic dreamer at Neuhof. Fiissli, the painter, who was turning over the leaves of a humorous pamphlet, suddenly interrupted his brother by asking who was the author of that satire. On being told, " Pestalozzi," he said, "The man has talent and originality, and can help himself by writing books." The book-seller thereupon urged Pestalozzi to write a popular tale. The latter, without any positive plan, composed some pieces in imitation of the tales of Marmontel. But on touching the question of domestic education, the subject seemed to grow and expand, until, throwing his whole heart into the theme, and drawing largely from the treasures of his exf>erience, he produced this immortal work. Such was the sensation which followed its publication that the Government of Berne decreed him a gold medal. This he w T as obliged to turn into cash to supply his family with the necessaries of life.
The success of a book even in our more enlightened age is not always owing to its merits. It may be admired for the beauty of its style, for the truthfulness of its scenes and pictures which excite feelings of pleasure and approbation, or arouse sympathy and indignation ; but should the author appeal for aid in correcting errors and in relieving distress, a deaf ear is turned to his entreaties, and his importunities are considered an annoyance and a bore. This, Pestalozzi experienced with his work, and complains that the highest encouragement he received from influential persons was this: "If there were many mothers like Gertrude, many school-masters like Glhlphi, many magistrates like Arner, the world would be in a better condition."
From his inability to buy the necessary paper, the story of "Leonard and Gertrude" was written on the blank leaves of an old accountbook. Whenever he added any thing to the text he patched little scraps of paper upon the sheet, which, combined with his illegible handwriting, must have driven the printers nearly to despair. The receipts from the book did not add much to his wealth, as will be seen by the publisher's conditions, which we add for the consolation of poor authors. He was to receive three dollars per sheet, with twenty dollars additional if the work should reach a second edition.'
His extreme poverty, however, resulted chiefly from his ignorance of the ways of the world and from his self-forgetting benevolence. The following anecdote illustrates both these characteristics. When in great need he once borrowed from a friend one hundred dollars, and on his way home he met a poor peasant wringing his hands in great distress. On being asked the reason of his grief, he answered, with many tears, that " his house had been consumed by fire, and he was without shelter and home." This was too much for the feelings of kind-hearted Pestalozzi. Forgetting his own errand, he put all the borrowed money into the hand of the peasant, and hurried off to his own desolate home. Arriving there without money and telling his story, his gentle wife asked whether he knew the name of the fortunate receiver. " I do not know the man," he said, "but he looked so poor and honest that I am sure he must be good." When the peasant in his turn was asked the name of his benefactor, he answered: "I do not know. He looked odd and slovenly, but had such a benevolent air about him that I am sure he must be a good man." Such a coincidence of opinion and absence of flattery between persons unknown to each other deserve mention.
In his domestic relations Pestalozzi was exceedingly fortunate — finding there repose in his weariness, sympathy in his philanthropic schemes, and consolation in his failures. Of his wife we have already spoken, and regret that we can not do full justice to her worth. Born of wealthy parents and marrying against their wishes a man who they declared would never be able to support her, she joyfully exchanged her worldly treasures for those which came from the rich and overflowing heart of her husband. She was a woman of more than ordinary intelligence and culture, and from the diary which she kept for many years have been taken many interesting details of the private life of her husband and herself.
From Pestalozzi's diary, kept during the early part of his life at Neuhof, we learn that, in addition to his other labors, he bestowed much attention upon the wants, emotions, and acts of his little son Jacob, who was born in 1770.
In his eagerness to develop the mind of his child, we fear the loving father was too impatient to wait for natural growth, since he often mentions the "inattention of Jacobli,* and his aversion to useful knowledge." This result, however, he had the justice to ascribe to his own want of skill in presentation, rather than to any natural distaste for knowledge on the part of the child. The following is an instance : After a futile attempt to make the little boy repeat the names of numbers, before the idea of number had been presented, he exclaims, "Oh, why have I committed the folly of naming to him words without meaning ; of letting him say three without first showing him the idea of two in all its bearings and applications? It is so difficult to come back from error, and so easy to walk in the simple paths of truth."
In giving the child object-lessons he does not spare any trouble. He leads the little fellow along the bank of a brook, and is delighted with the childish remark: "The water comes running after," for which he teaches him to substitute the expression, "The water runs down hill." On his return he develops the idea of "up hill." In one passage of his diary he mentions an experience, not uncommon with parents, of finding that his child asked for certain things under a pretext quite different from the true reason. For instance, Jacobli asks his father to carry him to the barn so that he might there recite his lesson, when he really wanted to see the horse. Another passage shows how ready Pestalozzi ever was to receive instruction and to profit by it, though expressed in homely phrase by his man-of-allwork, Klaus. When speaking to him of the excellent memory of his son; "It is good enough," Klaus replied, "but love and courage for learning are still better. Do you ever think of that, master?" "O Klaus," answered the candid master, " all learning is not worth a straw, if joy and courage are lost thereby."
The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.
Loading the full text…
The end
You’ve reached the end of Pestalozzi: his life, work, and influence.
