are seldom carried out in practice.” The motive power of his career was the “enthusiasm of humanity.” He never lost faith in the true dignity of man, and in the possibility of raising the Swiss peasantry to a condition worthy of it. “From my youth up,” he says, “I felt what a high and indispensable human duty it was to labor for the poor and miserable, that he may attain to a consciousness of his own dignity through his feeling of the universal powers and endowments which he possesses awakened within him, so that he may be raised not only above the ploughing oxen, but also above the man in purple and silk who lives unworthily of his high destiny.” It is claimed of him that he was the first teacher to announce convincingly the doctrine that all people should be educated; that, in fact, education is the one good gift to give to all, rich or poor, and, unlike any other giving, it helps and does not hinder self-help. Pestalozzi was no friend to the notion of giving instruction always in the guise of amusement, contending that a child should very early in life be taught the lesson that exertion is indispensable for the attainment of knowledge. At the same time he held that a child should not be taught to look upon exertion as an evil; he should be encouraged, not frightened, into it. “An interest,” he claims, “in study is the first thing which a teacher should endeavor to excite and keep alive. There are scarcely any circumstances in which a want of application in children does not proceed from a want of interest; and there are, perhaps, none in which the want of interest does not originate in the mode of teaching adopted by the teacher. I would go so far as to lay it down as a rule that, whenever children are inattentive and apparently take no interest in a lesson, the teacher should always first look to himself for the reason. Could we conceive the indescribable tedium which must oppress the young mind while the weary hours are slowly passing away, one after another, in occupations which it can neither relish nor understand, could we remember the like scenes which our own childhood has passed through, we should no longer be surprised at the remissness of the school-boy, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school. We must adopt a better mode of instruction, by which children are less left to themselves, less thrown upon the unwelcome employment of passive listening, but more roused by questions, animated by illustrations, interested and won by kindness.”