and from this time until the end, all other work was laid aside, and
his entire strength given to the consummate flower of his educational
thought.

The first kindergarten was opened in 1837 at Blankenburg (where a
memorial school is now conducted), and in 1850 the institution at
Marienthal for the training of kindergartners was founded, Froebel
remaining at its head until his death two years after.

With the exception of that remarkable book 'The Education of Man'
(1826), his most important literary work was done after 1836;
'Pedagogics of the Kindergarten,' the first great European
contribution to the subject of child-study, appearing from 1837 to
1840 in the form of separate essays, and the 'Mutter-und-Kose Lieder'
(Mother-Play) in 1843. Many of his educational aphorisms and
occasional speeches were preserved by his great disciple the Baroness
von Marenholtz-Buelow in her 'Reminiscences of Froebel'; and though two
most interesting volumes of his correspondence have been published,
there remain a number of letters, as well as essays and educational
sketches, not yet rendered into English.

Froebel's literary style is often stiff and involved, its phrases
somewhat labored, and its substance exceedingly difficult to translate
with spirit and fidelity; yet after all, his mannerisms are of a kind
to which one easily becomes accustomed, and the kernel of his thought
when reached is found well worth the trouble of removing a layer of
husk. He had always an infinitude of things to say, and they were all
things of purpose and of meaning; but in writing, as well as in formal
speaking, the language to clothe the thought came to him slowly and
with difficulty. Yet it appears that in friendly private intercourse
he spoke fluently, and one of his students reports that in his classes
he was often "overpowering and sublime, the stream of his words
pouring forth like fiery rain."

It is probable that in daily life Froebel was not always an agreeable
house-mate; for he was a genius, a reformer, and an unworldly
enthusiast, believing in himself and in his mission with all the ardor
of a heart centred in one fixed purpose. He was quite intolerant of
those who doubted or disbelieved in his theories, as well as of those
who, believing, did not carry their faith into works. The people who
stood nearest him and devoted themselves to the furthering of his
ideas slept on no bed of roses, certainly; but although he sometimes
sacrificed