the final efficiency of the worker to be measured by the quality and power of his mind and character, or by those of the one who simply gives him instructions to be carried out: is the educator a machine minder or a mind maker? These are questions which must be settled in deciding such a point.

At the same time there are elements of truth even in the extremest view of the statement that any one can teach. In the first place, any one with ordinary intelligence and power can, by careful and thorough training, be made into an averagely good teacher. It is not necessary to be a "born teacher" to be a good practical teacher. The "born teacher"-to give the phrase real meaning-is one with at least a touch of genius for teaching, i.e., he has exceptional native capacity and disposition for the work of teaching. Any one can play five-finger exercises on the piano satisfactorily, if he be not defective in mind or deformed of hand; but one must be born with exceptional powers of mind and hand to become a really first-rate pianist, -of the type of which such men as Paderewski are the supreme examples.

Further, it is true that, without any training whatever, an intelligent person can follow a course of action laid down by another, and that certain results will be obtained according as the course itself is sound, and the worker carries it out thoroughly and accurately. But even material machines go wrong, and the best of courses do not fit every possible circumstance. What can the person who does not understand the machinery, and knows nothing of the system except that he is to follow it as laid down, do when either the one or the other fails to keep to what is ordinarily expected of

them? If this be so of material machinery, how much more is it true of living and growing things, and especially of so complex and delicate a living organism as the human being?

Again, it is even true that the exceptionally intelligent, observant and thoughtful persons will rediscover the principles of education, and do much work that is valuable and lasting. But at what cost of mistakes, and permanent and serious injuries? So far as such a one relies upon himself he is practically certain to commit most of the mistakes which have been made by the human race in its efforts to work out the best system of education. Why should this be done? What should we say of the man who turned his back on all existing medical knowledge, and the opportunities for medical training, so that he might rediscover the truths and principles of the healing arts while practising on his patients?

Of what a genius-the rarest of exceptions-can do, and can not do, without training, we can see in the case of Pestalozzi himself. Pestalozzi says: "I could neither write, sum, nor read perfectly. [But] I could teach writing without being able to write perfectly myself." M. Buss says of Pestalozzi: "He could, unfortunately, neither write nor draw well, though he had brought his children, in some, to me, inconceivable manner well on in both these subjects". Karl Ritter, the great geographer, pays this high tribute to Pestalozzi's teaching (or, should we say, inspiration): "Pestalozzi knew less geography than a child in one of our primary schools; yet it was from him that I obtained my chief ideas on this science, for it was in listening to him that I first conceived the idea of the

natural method. It was he who opened up the way to me, and I take pleasure in attributing entirely to him whatever value my work may have."

M. Charles Monnard says that Pestalozzi, when he went to Burgdorf to teach, "would have had no chance whatever against even the most ordinary candidates [for a post as teacher]. He had everything against him thick, indistinct speech, bad writing, ignorance of drawing, scorn of grammatical learning. He had studied various branches of natural history, but had paid no particular attention either to classification or nomenclature. He was acquainted with the ordinary numerical calculations, but he would have found it difficult to work out a really long sum in multiplication or division, and had probably never attempted to solve a problem in geometry. For years he had done no study, only dreamed. He could not even sing, though, when greatly excited or elated, he would hum to himself snatches of poetry; not, however, with very much tune."

What Pestalozzi did, in spite of all these drawbacks, he did because he was the genius that he was, and not because he had received no special training and preparation for his work. The roughest diamond is a diamond still; but the cut and polished stone is the best both for work and as art. When ordinary stones claim to be as diamonds, both danger and disaster will result.

Other points of view in considering this question may be suggested, viz., the efficiency of doctors as compared with that of trained nurses in dealing with the body: the efficiency of the trained nurse as compared with that of the parent, in carrying out a doctor's orders: the efficiency of the trained artisan as compared with that

of the man in the street, in ordinary affairs: the difference between learning, and observing how we learn: the difference between seeing that there is a difficulty, and in recognising in what the difficulty consists: and the difference between recognising the elements which make the difficulty, and knowing the best method of overcoming it.

CHAPTER XVI.

WHAT PESTALOZZI DID FOR EDUCATION.

PESTALOZZI himself declares what he sought to accomplish, viz., (1) in the theory of education: "I want to psychologise instruction"; (2) in the art of education: "The public common school coach, throughout Europe, must not simply be better horsed: what it needs most of all is that it should be turned completely round, and brought on to an entirely new road". And this as a stepping-stone to the general good, through the advancement of the welfare of the working classes. As he himself says, in writing of the effect of Rousseau's works on his mind, he desired an "extended sphere of activity, in which [he] might promote the welfare and happiness of the people"; and again, in his letter to Anna Schulthess: "I shall not forget the precepts of Menalk, and my first resolutions to devote myself wholly to my country; I shall never, from fear of man, refrain from speaking, when I see that the good of my country calls upon me to speak; my whole heart is my country's; I will risk all to alleviate the need and misery of my fellow-countrymen

As to his success Raumer says: "He compelled the scholastic world to revise the whole of their task, to reflect on the nature and destiny of man, as also on the proper way of leading him from his youth towards his

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