me, and filled me with the hope and trust that I, too, might, through my
own endeavour, repair the deficiencies of my bringing-up. As I have
grown older I have also found it consolatory to remark how the culture
of vigorous, capable men has not seldom been acquired remarkably late in
life. And in general I must acknowledge it as part of the groundwork
underlying my life and the evolution of my character, that the
contemplation of the actual existences of real men always wrought upon
my soul, as it were, by a fruitful rain and the genial warmth of
sunshine; while the isolated truths these lives enshrined, the
principles those who lived them had thought out and embodied in some
phrase or another, fell as precious seed-corn, as it were, or as solvent
salt crystals upon my thirsty spirit. And while on this head I cannot
help especially calling to mind how deep and lasting was the impression
made upon me in my last year at school by the accounts in the Holy
Scriptures of the lives of earnestly striving youths and men. I mention
it here, but I shall have to return to the subject later on.[41]

Now to return to the new life which I had begun. It was only to be
expected that each thing and all things I heard of Pestalozzi seized
powerfully upon me; and this more especially applies to a sketchy
narrative of his life, his aims, and his struggles, which I found in a
literary newspaper, where also was stated Pestalozzi's well-known desire
and endeavour--namely, in some nook or corner of the world, no matter
where, to build up an institution for the education of the poor, after
his own heart. This narrative, especially the last point of it, was to
my heart like oil poured on fire. There and then the resolution was
taken to go and look upon this man who could so think and so endeavour
to act, and to study his life and its work.

Three days afterwards (it was towards the end of August 1805) I was