CHAPTER II.

PESTALOZZI THE STUDENT.

Splendour of the University of Zurich in the middle of the eighteenth century; the spirit which reigned there, and its influence on Pestalozzi; he abandons theology for law in order to reform abuses; he is condemned as a revolutionary; he abandons law, and burns his manuscripts. Ali that remains of his first writings: "Agis." Carried away by the agricultural utopias of the time, he becomes an agriculturist in order to help the people.

IN the middle of the last century, higher education in the town of Zurich had made remarkable progress, and was distinguished by a loftiness and originality which deserve to be better known. The philosophy of Wolff, who preached a return to Nature in everything, had stirred in the students a triple enthusiasm: for simple manners, for the revival of German literature, and for political liberty. It was this enthusiasm which impelled Pestalozzi to the enterprises of his youth, those first unfortunate attempts which only delayed the moment when he was to find his real vocation and become the reformer of education.

At that time, theology, medicine, and law were studied in Zurich in the Collegium humanitatis, which was open to students of fifteen years of age, and which three distinguished professors had brought into great repute. These men were Zimmerman, Professor of Theology (1736); Breitinger, Professor of Greek and Hebrew (1745); and Bodmer, Professor of History and Politics (1730). They had succeeded in arousing a burning zeal amongst the students, and in imparting to their work a particular tendency, some explanation of which will be necessary to the proper understanding of this history.

Zimmerman was firmly and sincerely religious, without being intolerant; he was quick, open, and calm, a friend of

mankind and a friend of truth. He had changed the old system of formality and severity at the Academy by making the relations between master and pupil kindly and pleasant. When Pestalozzi began his higher studies, however, Zimmerman had already been called to another post; but the influence of his past activity continued to make itself felt during the professorship of his successor.

Breitinger used to speak of Greek literature as being a source of wisdom for all other nations. He taught it in this spirit with remarkable power, and succeeded in making his pupils understand and appreciate it, and find not only keen pleasure in it, but valuable instruction. He loved his pupils as his own children, and looked after them individually with such care that they all loved and respected him as a father.

Bodmer was a Professor at Zurich for nearly fifty years, and it is to him particularly that the town owes the many talented men it has produced. His teaching was more especially concerned with the history and institutions of Switzerland, and its effect was to inspire his hearers with a passionate love for justice and liberty. His view was that the manners and social organization of the day were degenerating, and that a struggle must be made to bring back the old virtues. He taught that desires must be limited, and praised the simple joys of domestic life. We can form some opinion of his teaching from the following passage of his Dialogues of the Dead:

"What did you do on earth?-I sought for happiness. Did you find it?-Alas! much too late. Where did you seek it?-In Persia, in India, in Japan, at the ends of the earth. Where did you find it ?-It had been in my own village, in my father's house, whilst I had been seeking it thousands of miles away; and when at last, after many dangers, I returned home, I found it there. My father, who had taken no step to find it, carried it in his heart. I just caught a glimpse of it and died."

But Bodmer was not content with teaching history and politics; he introduced his pupils to the masterpieces of modern literature, especially English. To him and Breitinger, Zurich owes the honour of having been, with Leipsic,

the starting-point of the movement which has given Germany her admirable modern literature.

Soon after Klopstock had published his Messiah, he came to Zurich to stay with Bodmer, who had been one of the first to appreciate the value of his work. He was soon followed by Wieland and Kleist, so that gradually the little Swiss town became quite a centre of literary activity. wrote to Gleim:

Kleist

"Zurich is really one of the finest places in the world, not only on account of its magnificent position, but on account of the men to be found there. Whereas in great Berlin there are not more than three or four men of taste and genius, in little Zurich there are twenty or thirty."

So great was the influence of these professors on their pupils, that the latter came to despise wealth, luxury, and material comfort, and cared for nothing but the pleasures of the mind and soul, and the unceasing pursuit of justice and truth. For a long time Pestalozzi and his friends slept on the bare ground, with no other covering but their clothes, and ate nothing but bread and vegetables.

Such was the spirit which reigned in the University of Zurich about 1760, seven or eight years after Klopstock's visit to his friend Bodmer. It was at this time that young Pestalozzi arrived there. His previous studies in a humble school had not prepared him in any way for the University, but this lofty teaching suited his character, and, acting powerfully on his impressionable nature, furnished his faculties with the stimulus and food they lacked. As a schoolboy, he had not shown much power, but now he rapidly became a distinguished scholar. He was still little more than a boy, when the University honoured him by printing a translation he had made of a speech of Demosthenes.

He afterwards referred to his academical studies in these words:

"The spirit of the public teaching in my native town, though eminently scientific, was calculated to make us lose sight of the realities of life, and lead us into the land of dreams. All the best of us, Lavater not excepted, were mere dreamers. We had decided to live for nothing but indepen

dence, well-doing, sacrifice, and love of country, but we were without the practical knowledge necessary for reaching these ends. We were taught to despise the external advantages of wealth, honour, and consideration, and to believe that by economy and moderation, it is possible to do without most of the things considered essential by ordinary middle-class people. We were beguiled by a dream, to wit, the possibility of enjoying independence and domestic happiness without having either the power or the means of acquiring that position which alone can give them. These dreams had all the more power over us because it was to our best feelings that they appealed when they incited us to make a stand against the decay of the old Swiss spirit, that spirit of simplicity, dignity, and fidelity, which had once been the glory of our country, but which at that time was already slowly disappearing from amongst us.”

No man was ever a greater victim than Pestalozzi himself of this illusion which he calls a dream, this ideal which he pursued with so much self-forgetfulness; and yet is it not just because he reached so high a point in this high path, that he made the discoveries which have rendered his memory immortal?

We have seen that young Pestalozzi wanted to be a pastor, like his grandfather. He accordingly studied theology, but after having brought his studies to a successful close, he discovered that he could not preach. It is even said that in the middle of his trial-sermon an uncontrollable fit of laughter seized him and obliged him to stop. So he gave up the ministry to study law. But this change was not entirely the result of his inability to preach, for his thoughts had long been taking another direction, and slowly leading him to another sphere of activity.

Already, as a child at school, Pestalozzi had had a horror of injustice and oppression, and had always been the champion of those who were wronged. One day he had taken to task a worthless under-master who had been guilty of some injustice, and, to the amazement of the whole class, his energy had carried the day. Later, in an anonymous letter addressed to the educational authorities, he had disclosed the vices which were secretly undermining a public educational institution; this letter had excited some very angry

feeling, and on its authorship being discovered, Pestalozzi, although an inquiry had proved the truth of his statements, had been threatened with severe punishment, and had been obliged to escape to Höngg to his grandfather.

There he had heard the peasants complain how the burgesses of Zurich lorded it over them, monopolized the trade in the town, and refused to sell them the right of citizenship. Often, too, he had stayed with his uncle Hotz at Richterswyl, the inhabitants of which village made the same complaints as those of Höngg. The doctor used to speak with great bitterness of the "gracious lords of Zurich," and one day, when his nephew was boasting of the liberty of the Swiss peasants, he replied sharply, "Don't talk so much about their liberty; they are no more free here than in Livonia."

The impressions thus made on young Pestalozzi by his visits to the country were all the keener and deeper for being associated with the memory of happy days spent amongst a class of people who always made him welcome, and in a place where he was able to enjoy a freer and more active life than he had ever enjoyed in Zurich.

At that time, the village pastors of the canton were for ever repeating the old adage about evil coming from the town. Young Henry felt this too. "When I am big," he used to say, "I shall support the peasants; they ought to have the same rights as the townspeople."

At the university, too, where Bodmer's teaching had directed his attention to the political state of his country, he was one of the most ardent amongst those young men who were anxious to reform everything in Zurich, and whose actions in the pursuit of liberty and justice occasionally caused their parents so much embarrassment, anxiety, and trouble.

In the middle of the last century, the country districts in most of the Swiss cantons were dominated by the towns, which were themselves governed by a certain number of privileged families, whose government was generally mild and kind, though the people had no right to take part in it. In Zurich, some thirteen trade-guilds monopolized all the industry and commerce of the place.

The desire for greater liberty showed itself first amongst the students, and was caused to a very great extent by the