"The powerful, indefinable, stirring and uplifting effect produced by Pestalozzi when he spoke, set one's soul on fire for a higher, nobler life, although he had not made clear or sure the exact way towards it, nor indicated the means whereby to attain it. . . . I soon saw that much was imperfect; but, notwithstanding this, the activity which pressed forth on all sides, the vigorous effort, the spiritual endeavour of life around me, which carried me away with it as it did all other men who came within its influence, convinced me that here I should presently be able to resolve all my difficulties."

This inability on the part of Pestalozzi to follow his ideas and plans to successful issues was pointed out to Pestalozzi himself by his friend Lavater, who said to him: "When I only see a line of yours without a mistake, I will believe you capable of much, very much, that you would like to be". To Pestalozzi's wife Lavater once said: "If I were a prince, I would consult Pestalozzi in everything that concerns the people and the improvement of their condition, but I would never trust him with a farthing of money".

Often too the enthusiasm of his hopes, the intensity of his desires, and the overwhelming conviction of the rightness and righteousness of his work, seem to have so prejudiced his calmer and clearer judgment that he believed the facts to be other than they were; and even went so far as to arrange things so that other people should be led to see only the greatest successes of his work. Ramsauer says: "As many hundred times in the course of the year as foreigners visited the Pestalozzi institution, so many hundred times did Pestalozzi allow himself, in his enthusiasm, to be deceived by them. On the arrival of every fresh visitor, he would

go to the teachers in whom he placed most confidence and say to them: This is an important personage, who wants to become acquainted with all we are doing. Take your best pupils and their analysis-books (copybooks in which the lessons were written out) and show him what we can do and what we wish to do'. Hundreds and hundreds of times there came to the institution silly, curious and often totally uneducated persons, who came because it was the 'fashion'. On their account, we usually had to interrupt the class instruction and hold kind of examination.

"In 1814, the aged Prince Esterhazy came. Pestalozzi ran all over the house, calling out: 'Ramsauer, Ramsauer, where are you? Come directly with your best pupils to the Maison Rouge (the hotel where the Prince was). He is a person of the highest importance and of infinite wealth; he has thousands of bond-slaves in Hungary and Austria. He is certain to build schools. and set free his slaves, if he is made to take an interest in the matter.' I took about fifteen pupils to the hotel. Pestalozzi introduced me to the Prince with these words: This is the teacher of these scholars, a young man who fifteen years ago migrated with other poor children from the canton of Appenzell and came to me. But he received an elementary education, according to his individual aptitudes, without let or hindrance. Now he is himself a teacher. Thus you see that there is as much ability in the poor as in the richest, frequently more; but in the former it is seldom developed, and even then not methodically. It is for this reason that the improvement of the people's schools is so highly important. But he will show you everything we do better than I could. I will, therefore, leave you for the present.'

"I now examined the pupils, taught, explained and bawled, in my zeal, till I was quite hoarse, believing that the Prince was thoroughly convinced about everything. At the end of an hour Pestalozzi returned. The Prince expressed his pleasure at what he had seen. He then took leave, and Pestalozzi, standing on the steps of the hotel, said: 'He is quite convinced, quite convinced, and will certainly establish schools on his Hungarian estates'.

"When we had descended the stairs, Pestalozzi said: 'Whatever ails my arm? It is so painful. Why, see! it is quite swollen; I can't bend it!' And in truth his wide sleeve was now too small for his arm. I looked at the key of the house-door of the Maison Rouge and said to Pestalozzi: 'Look here; you struck yourself against this key when we were going to the Prince an hour ago '. On closer observation it appeared that Pestalozzi had actually bent the key by hitting his elbow against it. In the first hour afterwards he had not noticed the pain, for the excess of his zeal and his joy."

It is impossible to deny that, though due to the best possible motives, there is much that is misleading and mistaken in such methods of self-advertisement. They savour too much of "tricks of the trade". It is to such exhibitions that Professor Vulliemin refers as "charlatanism (see p. 97). Although Pestalozzi did such things in the excitement of the moment, so to say, yet in his calmer moods he recognised that he had misrepresented matters; frankly confessed his fault, and corrected his misrepresentations. A good example of this is seen in connection with the Report to Parents which was published as a reply to the attacks on the institute at Yverdon. In this everything and everybody

are spoken of as though all was perfection and delight. Afterwards Pestalozzi admitted that "what is here said... is altogether a consequence of the great delusion under which we lay at that period, namely, that all those things in regard to which we had strong intentions and some clear ideas, were really as they ought to have been, and as we should have liked to make them.. Neither did we perceive the weeds at that time; indeed, as we then lived, thought, acted and dreamt, it was impossible that we should perceive them."

On this element in Pestalozzi's character Raumer remarks: "The source of the internal contradiction which runs through the life of Pestalozzi was, as we saw from his own confessions, the fact that, in spite of his grand ideal, which comprehended the whole human race, he did not possess the ability and skill requisite for conducting the smallest village school. His highly active imagination led him to consider and describe as actually existing in the institution whatever he hoped sooner or later to see realised. His hopeful spirit foresaw future development in what was already accomplished, and expected that others would benevolently do the same. This bold assumption had an effect on many, especially on the teachers of the institution. This appears to explain how, in the report on the institution, so much could be said bond fide which a sober spectator was bound to pronounce untrue.

"But this self-delusion is never of long duration; the period of overstrung enthusiasm is followed by one of hopelessness and dejection. The heart of man is indeed an alternately proud and dejected thing! Such an ebb and flow of lofty enthusiasm and utter despair pervades the entire life of Pestalozzi."

It would almost seem that Pestalozzi's personal neglect and disorder was a reflection of the want of order and finish in the affairs of his mind. There is no doubt that the former was very marked. Raumer thus speaks of his first sight of Pestalozzi: "He was dressed in the most negligent manner: he had on an old grey overcoat, no waistcoat, a pair of breeches, and stockings hanging down over his slippers; his coarse bushy black hair uncombed and frightful. His brow was deeply furrowed, his dark brown eyes were now soft and mild, now full of fire. You hardly noticed that the old man, so full of geniality, was ugly; you read in his singular features long continued suffering and great hopes."

Ramsauer in describing his first day and lesson in the school at Burgdorf tells how Pestalozzi “kept on reading out sentences without halting for a moment. As I did not understand a bit of what was going on, when I heard the word 'monkey, monkey,' come every time at the end of a sentence, and as Pestalozzi, who was very ugly, ran about the room as if he was wild, without a coat, and without a neck-cloth, his long shirtsleeves hanging down over his arms and hands, which swung negligently about, I was seized with real terror, and might soon have believed that he himself was a monkey."

Professor Vulliemin thus describes him: "Imagine . . . a very ugly man with rough bristling hair, his face scarred with small-pox and covered with freckles, an untidy beard, no neck-tie, his breeches not properly buttoned and coming down to his stockings, which in their turn descended on to his great thick shoes; fancy him panting and jerking as he walked". Buss speaks of "his stockings hanging down about his heels, and