that Pestalozzi was the author, he said to his brother, "This man can help himself, if he will. He has the power, cheer him up; authorship can rescue him from his present distressing condition." The bookseller shared his brother's opinions; he sent for Pestalozzi, and requested him at once to write a book for the people. At first he smiled incredulously. For the last ten years he had scarcely had a book in his hand. But after a little reflection he felt encouraged; he began his work, and from the rich treasury of his own experiences, writing down what his heart dictated, one picture after another from village life was vividly described, and in a few weeks the work was finished. So great was the author's poverty at this time, that the greater part of his story was written on the old partly-used sheets of account books. "Lienhard and Gertrude," as it was called, was a model of books for the people. When Iselin read it, he exclaimed, "The work is unique in its kind, and has not an equal." It was published, and met in Switzerland as well as in all Germany with universal favour and acceptance, bringing Pestalozzi a large and most acceptable sum of money. The city of Berne sent him in gratitude a large gold medal, which the poor man, much as it pleased him, could not keep, but was obliged to sell to a collector of curiosities soon

after.

By this book he wished to raise the social condition of the peasantry. To the poor and the abandoned, to the mothers, he shows their faults and failings, and

in Gertrude represents a picture of how a mother ought to educate and instruct her children. The justice of his views and counsels was recognised, and the book was at once translated into several foreign languages. His second popular work, "Christoph

and Else," was less successful.

In the following year he started a Swiss journal (Schweizerblatt), in which he related the lives of noble and celebrated Swiss. He wrote also several treatises on the social crimes and evils of the day, a book of fables, and several children's stories. All these writings bear the liveliest witness to his love for the people, for his country, and for freedom. Although these books brought him in a good deal of money, yet Neuhof still cost him annually large sums, and brought him in nothing. His distress was increasing, when the disorders consequent on the French Revolution broke out. The Republican armies invaded Switzerland, destroyed all law and order, and insisted. on the Swiss adopting a new constitution. Several lucrative and important posts were offered to Pestalozzi under this new government, but he kept to his former determination, "I will be a schoolmaster."

The "Directory" at last acceded to his wishes, and appointed him overseer of a seminary to be at once established. While he was looking about for a suitable spot on which to erect this institution, events occurred which summoned him to a different scene of labour.

Several of the old Swiss cantons refused to accept

the new constitution. An open insurrection ensued, which ended in the complete devastation of the canton of Unterwalden by the French armies. Terrible misery was the consequence. The towns of Stanz and Stanzstadt had been burned to the ground, and a multitude of poor children, who had lost their parents, were wandering about in utter destitution, without a roof to shelter them. Their distress touched many generous Swiss hearts; from all parts of the country food, clothes, and money were sent to the afflicted district, and every effort made to alleviate the suffering there.

When Pestalozzi heard of these events, a voice within him seemed to say, "Be a father, a teacher, a helper to these orphans." He forgot his own troubles; he thought no more of his grand project, for the execution of which the Government had liberally offered him means; all he now desired was to be able to gather these abandoned children around him, and to save them from bodily and spiritual ruin. His wish was readily granted, and an old uninhabited convent near Stanz was assigned to him for his orphans. Thither Pestalozzi, now fifty-two years of age, betook himself at the close of 1798, accompanied only by an old housekeeper, to exercise his work of mercy. The building was partially in ruins, the rooms were not fit for habitation. In spite of that, poor children streamed thither as soon as they heard that a helper had appeared for them. Though nothing was ready, Pestalozzi could under no circum

stances turn away a poor child. Unexampled difficulties met him at every point. In a little room, through whose broken windows the cold autumn blasts penetrated, in the most unwholesome atmosphere, in a thick layer of dust and plaster which filled all the passages, Pestalozzi began his work. The children, whose number daily increased, were covered with vermin, afflicted with fearful sores and ulcers, mostly emaciated skeletons, their teeth chattering, deep anguish in their eyes, deep wrinkles on their brows; some were bold and impudent, accustomed to beggary, hypocrisy, and all kinds of falsehood; others, bent down by their misery, patiently suffered, but were timid, mistrustful, incapable of love; while a few, who had lived in better circumstances, looked down with contempt on the other beggar children. All were so ignorant that scarcely one could repeat the alphabet.

Soon a new life of light and love dawned upon these poor outcasts, of whom in a very short time more than eighty were gathered into the institution. To them Pestalozzi was everything: from morning till night he was in their midst; all they received came from his hand-all the aid, all the instruction given them, came directly from him. His hand lay in their hand, his eye rested on their eye. His tears flowed with theirs, his smile accompanied theirs. He shared their meals; every service, even the lowest and most degrading, he performed for them. He taught them, and prayed with them, when they were in bed,

till they fell asleep. Full of gentleness, and of the noblest self-denial, he was determined to heal the moral wounds they had suffered, and to overcome their faults and failings, by unwearied kindness. He was their master, their servant, their father, their mother, their overseer, their nurse, their teacher.

The utter want of culture in these children did not dishearten him. Former experience had taught him what noble qualities and capabilities are often developed from the wildest and rudest natures. In this case too he was not deceived. Before the spring sun had melted the snow on the Alps, these children had so changed, that one could scarcely recognise them as the same. The school inspectors, sent by the Government, were amazed at his success. The simple method which he employed to effect this reformation, consisted in the adoption in his institution of a common affectionate family life—he was the father, the orphans were all his children.

When Altdorf was burned down, this great philanthropist assembled his children around him and said, "Altdorf has been burned down, and perhaps at this moment hundreds of children are without shelter, food, and clothing. Shall we not ask to be allowed to receive some twenty of these children in our house?" When they exclaimed, full of emotion, "Yes! oh, yes !" he added, "But our house has not money enough. You will have to work more for these children; you will get less to eat; you will be obliged to share your clothes with them. Will you