are not a burden to me; but it grieves me that you go strolling backwards and forwards in this manner, and doubtless learn nothing at all. If you learned to work, as your late father did, that would be better;--you will never be a priest: I am not so lucky as to be the mother of a priest." So I remained with her two or three days. She was otherwise a respectable, honest, and pious woman, as was admitted by every body.

On my departure with my two brothers, as we were crossing the Letshi mountain towards Gestelen, my brothers sat down upon the slopes on the snow, and so slid down the mountain. I wished to imitate them, but because I did not instantly put my feet asunder the snow threw me over, so that I slid down the mountain head over heels. It would have been no wonder if I had killed myself by knocking my head against a tree; for there were no rocks. Three times I had the same mishap, for I always thought that I should be able to do it as well as my brothers; but they were more used to the mountains than I. Thus we travelled on together. They both remained in Entlibuch, but I went on to Zurich. There I lodged with the mother of the far famed, pious, and learned Mr. Rudolph Gwalther, who is now pastor at St. Peter's. He was then in the cradle, and I used often to rock him. I now visited the school in Frauenmünster, in which Wolfgang Knaüel, a pious Master of Arts, taught. I was quite in earnest in my desire to study, for I perceived that it was high time. They said at that time, that a teacher would come from Einsiedeln, a learned and faithful man, but extremely old. So I made a seat for myself in a corner not far from the teacher's seat, and said to myself, "In this corner you will study or die." When he came into the school for the first time, he said, "This is a nice school, but methinks there are stupid boys: still we shall see; only be industrious." This I know, that had my life depended on it I could not have declined a noun of the first declension, although I had learned Donatus off by heart to a nicety. For when I was at Schlestadt, Sapidus had a certain Bachelor of Arts, George von Andlau, a very learned man: he plagued the Bacchants so grievously with the Donatus, that I thought, "If it be such a good book, then you must learn it by heart," and as I learned to read it I learned it by heart at the same time. That turned to good account for me in the opinion of Father Myconius, my new teacher in Zurich; for he began at once to read Terence with us, and then we had to decline and conjugate every little word of a whole comedy. He used often to deal with me until my shirt was wet with perspiration through fear, and my eyes grew dim; and yet he never gave me a blow, except on one single occasion with the left hand on my cheek. He also read lectures upon the Holy Scriptures, which were attended by many of the laity; for at that time the light of the Gospel was just beginning to dawn, although Mass and the idolatrous pictures in the churches were continued for a long time after. Whenever he was rough towards me, he afterwards took me to his house, and gave me a meal; for he liked to hear me relate how I had travelled through all the countries in Germany, and what I had suffered every where, which I could much better remember then than now. Myconius without doubt was already acquainted with the pure doctrine; but was obliged, notwithstanding, to go to church at Frauenmünster with his scholars to sing the Vesper, Matins, and Masses, and to direct the singing. Once he said to me, "Custos,"^[4] (for I was his Custos), "I would now rather read four lessons than sing one Mass; do me a favour, and sometimes attend to an easy Mass, a Requiem, and such like for me: I will not let it be unrewarded." With that I was well content, for I was accustomed to that sort of thing, not only at Zurich, but also at Solothurn and elsewhere; for everything was still Popish. Many a one was to be found who could sing better than expound a Gospel; and it was daily to be seen in the schools that wild Bacchants went off and were ordained, if they could only sing a little, though they understood nothing either of grammar or Gospel. During the time that I was Custos, I was often in want of wood for heating the school. One morning Zuinglius was to preach before day in Frauenmünster; and as they were ringing the bell for service, there being no wood for heating the school, I thought in my simplicity, "You have no wood, and there are so many idols in the church!" As no one was there I went into the church to the nearest altar, seized a wooden St. John, hurried with him into the school, put him into the stove, and said to him, "Johnny, now bend yourself; you must go into the stove, even though you do represent a St. John." When he began to burn, there were nasty great blisters from the oil paint. I thought, "Now hold still; if you stir, which you however will not do, I will shut-to the door of the stove, and you dare not come out, unless the evil one fetches you." In the mean time the wife of Myconius came, intending to go to church to the sermon, and said, "God give you a good day, my son; have you heated the stove?" I closed the stove door, and said, "Yes, mother; I am quite ready." I would not however tell it to her; for if it had been known, it would have cost me my life at that time. In the school Myconius said, "Custos, you have had famous wood to-day," I thought, "St. John deserves the most praise." When we were to sing the Mass two priests were quarrelling together, and one said to the other, "You Lutheran knave, you have robbed me of a St. John." This they continued a good while. Myconius did not know what the matter was, but St. John was never found again. Of course I never told it to any one, till several years after, when Myconius was preacher at Basle; I then told it to him, and he wondered very much, and remembered well how the priests had quarrelled together. Although it appeared to me then that Popery was mere mummery, yet I still had it in my mind to become a priest, and to do the duties of my office faithfully, and deck out my altar smartly. For of real piety I understood at that time nothing; all rested merely on outward ceremonies. When, however, Ulrich Zuinglius preached severely against it, my scruples increased more and more in course of time. Otherwise I had prayed much, and fasted rather more than was agreeable to me; had also my saints and patrons, to whom I prayed: our Lady, the Virgin Mary, that she would be my intercessor with her Son; St. Catherine, that I might become learned; St. Barbara, that I might not die without the sacrament; St. Peter, that he would open heaven to me. What I neglected I wrote in a little book, and when there was a holiday at school, as on Thursday and Saturday, I went to Frauenmünster to a school: began and wrote all my offences upon a chair, and paid one debt after the other with prayers, blotting them out one after the other, and thought then that I had done right. Six times I went with processions from Zurich to Einsiedeln; was diligent in confession, and have often fought with my companions for Popery. One day, however, Ulrich Zuinglius preached in Söllnau upon the Gospel of St. John x., "I am the good Shepherd," &c.: that he explained so pointedly, that I felt as if some one had pulled me up into the air by the hair of my head, and made known to me how God would require the blood of the lost sheep at the hands of the shepherds who are guilty of their destruction. Then I thought to myself, "If that be the meaning, then adieu to the priest's office! a priest I will never be!" I continued however in my studies; began also to dispute with my comrades; attended the sermons diligently, and was fond of hearing my preceptor Myconius. Mass and the idolatrous pictures, however, were still continued at Zurich.

CHAPTER IV.

MASTER