Autobiography of Friedrich Froebel | Page 8

from wandering.
I have already mentioned that my father belonged to the old orthodox
school of theology; and in consequence the language both of his hymns
and of his sermons was mystical and symbolic--a style of speech which,
in more than one sense, I should call a stone-language, because it
requires an overwhelming power to burst its walls, and free from this
outer shell the life contained within. But what the full strength of later
life seems too weak to attain, is often accomplished by the living,
life-awakening, and life-giving power of some simple, thoughtful
young soul, by some young spirit first unfolding its wings, busily
seeking everywhere for the causes and connections of all things. Even
for such a youth, the treasure is to be gained only after long
examination, inquiry, and reflection. If ever I found that for which I so
longingly sought, then was I filled with exceeding joy.
The surroundings amidst which I had grown up, especially those in
which my first childhood was passed, had caused my senses to be much
and early exercised. The pleasures of the senses were from the first,
therefore, an object for the closest consideration with me. The results of
this analysing and questioning habit of my early boyhood were
perfectly clear and decisive, and, if not rendered into words, were yet
firmly settled in my mind. I recognised that the transitory pleasures of
the senses were without enduring and satisfying influence on man, and
that they were therefore on no account to be pursued with too great
eagerness. This conviction stamped and determined my whole being,
just as my questioning examination and comparison of the inner with
the outer world, and my study of their inter-connection, is now the
basis of my whole future life. Unceasing self-contemplation,
self-analysis, and self-education have been the fundamental
characteristics of my life from the very first, and have remained so until

these latest days.
To stir up, to animate, to awaken, and to strengthen, the pleasure and
power of the human being to labour uninterruptedly at his own
education, has become and always remained the fundamental principle
and aim of my educational work.
Great was my joy when I believed I had proved completely to my own
satisfaction that I was not destined to go to hell. The stony, oppressive
dogmas of orthodox theology I very early explained away, perhaps
assisted in this by two circumstances. Firstly, I heard these expressions
used over and over again, from my habit of being present at the lessons
given by my father in our own house, in preparation for confirmation. I
heard them used also in all sorts of ways, so that my mind almost
unconsciously constructed some sort of explanation of them. Secondly,
I was often a mute witness of the strict way in which my father
performed his pastoral duties, and of the frequent scenes between him
and the many people who came to the parsonage to seek advice and
consolation. I was thus again constantly attracted from the outer to the
inner aspects of life. Life, with its inmost motives laid bare, passed
before my eyes, with my father's comments pronounced upon it; and
thing and word, act and symbol were thus perceived by me in their
most vivid relationship. I saw the disjointed, heavy-laden, torn,
inharmonious life of man as it appeared in this community of five
thousand souls, before the watchful eyes of its earnest, severe pastor.
Matrimonial and sexual circumstances especially were often the objects
of my father's gravest condemnation and rebuke. The way in which he
spoke about these matters showed me that they formed one of the most
oppressive and difficult parts of human conduct; and, in my youth and
innocence, I felt a deep pain and sorrow that man alone, among all
creatures, should be doomed to these separations of sex, whereby the
right path was made so difficult for him to find. I felt it a real necessity
for the satisfaction of my heart and mind to reconcile this difficulty,
and yet could find no way to do so. How could I at that age, and in my
position? But my eldest brother, who, like all my elder brothers, lived
away from home, came to stay with us for a time; and one day, when I
expressed my delight at seeing the purple threads of the hazel buds, he

made me aware of a similar sexual difference in plants. Now was my
spirit at rest. I recognised that what had so weighed upon me was an
institution spread over all nature, to which even the silent, beautiful
race of flowers was submitted. From that time humanity and nature, the
life of the soul and the life of the flower, were closely knit together in
my mind; and I