It was usual for us to meet there on the evening prior to Easter Sunday. A piano-forte was taken for the occasion to one end of this immense room; over it was suspended a lantern, which threw a dim light on a splendid painting of a dead Christ, removed from the Brethren's House. When all had assembled, we stood for a few minutes in front of the picture. Then the full-toned piano, accompanied by a French bugle, broke the silence with one of those airs which for ages have been used in the Moravian church. This ceased for a moment, and we heard the sweet melody whispering round that vast hall, the whole of which was in darkness, save the spot where we were gathered. Again we mused on the painting, and were almost startled by the breathless quiet of the place: the music recommenced, and we sang that fine old hymn,

"Met around the sacred tomb,

Friends of Jesus, why those tears?" &c.

This was generally followed by an anthem suited to the occasion. The next morning found us assembled by five o'clock in the chapel, joined by an immense crowd. The service opened with a voluntary on the organ-the congregation rose-the Rev. C. F. Ramftler entered, followed by the Rev. C. F. Reichel, Rev. Mr. Ray, &c., chanting as they walked, "THE LORD IS RISEN INDEED!" On reaching their places the Litany commenced, the responses to which were sung by the choir and congregation. On arriving at the part which refers to the church triumphant, all adjourned to the burial-ground, and there finished the service in the open air.

Those only who have witnessed it, can form any notion of its solemnity. The congregation formed a circle, in the centre of which was the officiating clergyman. The sun had just risen, and was lighting up that splendid scenery, and the mists of the night were rolling rapidly away. In the distance covering the opposite hill, were magnificent woods, swept by a clear crystal stream; over us the birds of the morning carolled their early matins, and then soared into high heaven. It was in such a scene we offered this thrilling petition to heaven's God:

“ MIN.—And keep us in everlasting fellowship with our brethren- -and our sisters-who have entered into the joy of their Lord, and whose bodies are buried here; also with the servants and handmaids of our church, whom thou hast called home within this year; and with the whole church triumphant; and grant that we may finally rest with them in thy presence from all our labours. Amen."-CON.

* Here are mentioned the names of those who departed into rest since the preceding Easter.

"They are at rest in lasting bliss
Beholding Christ their Saviour;
Our humble expectation is

To live with Him for ever!"

This verse was sung by the vast assembly, led by horns, trombones, and other wind instruments, and echoed along that beautiful valley, and mingled with the hum of bees, the ripple of the waters, the wild music of the birds, and it may be, with the minstrelsy of unseen spirits.

These were high and happy days-days of jubilee. In the afternoon was a "love-feast," similar to the agape of the primitive church, when tea and cakes were distributed to the congregation, and an address was delivered from the text for the day;" the service being enlivened by a selection of sacred music from Handel, and others. I have since witnessed the religious ceremonies of other bodies, and, although it has been mine to minister at the altar of another communion, I must confess, that I have met with nothing so solemn, yet elegantly chaste, as these services of the Brethren's Church.

Besides the great festival of Easter, the Passion-week is kept very sacred. It is usual to assemble in the morning and evening of each day, when a portion from the "Narrative" is read, and hymns bearing on the subject of our Saviour's sufferings sung. Christmas-eve, Christmas-day, Whit-Sunday, Palm-Sunday, and what are termed "Memorial" and "Choir" days, were always devoted to religious services. These days were ushered in with rejoicing, and anticipated with delight. We were generally awoke in the morning by sweet strains of music issuing from the choir, who perambulated the terrace at an early hour. The German airs of this ancient church were admirably suited to produce a devotional tone, a calmness and quiet of which strangers can form no idea the romantic and beautiful scenery, the simple and innocent manners of the place, its entire seclusion from the noisy world, the taste with which these affairs were conducted, all tended to imbue the mind with sentiment and with tenderness.

On Christmas-eve, for instance, everything was in keeping; the only sound heard in the village was that of the chapel-bell, summoning us to worship. Every part of the neat yet imposing edifice, with the large chandeliers, &c., had been previously decorated by the Sisters with festoons of ever-greens, intermingled with ingenious and beautifully cut devices in paper, &c. The pulpit was similarly adorned. Immediately in the front of it, fringed with fir, holly, and various kinds of winter flowers, was a scroll bearing the inscription "UNTO US A CHILD IS BORN." Precisely at five o'clock, P.M. the organ pealed forth a tide of har

* Selected from "Daily Words and Doctrinal Texts, published annually for the use of the Unitas Fratrum."

mony-the congregation rose-the clergy entered, and the choir performed the Christmas anthem. Tea was then handed round; and children's voices were heard singing that touching melody

"Christ the Lord-the Lord most glorious

Now is born-Oh, shout aloud!" &c.

Sometimes the soft sweet voices of the girls alone accompanied the fine swell of the organ; anon the boys joined the chant, and then the whole congregation followed in full chorus. After a short pause, the minister spoke for a few minutes, and the choir performed several anthems: the benediction was then pronounced, and the meeting separated.

The Moravians, in common with some other churches, hold an interesting service on the last night of every year. At Fulneck, this service was extremely solemn. The only time I remember to have been present on such an occasion, was on the evening of December 31, 18-. There was a love-feast at nine, and a second meeting at eleven, P.M. A full choir always attended: that evening the year closed while the Rev. C. F. Ramftler was addressing the audience. At the very instant of midnight, his voice was drowned by the organ, accompanied by trombones, horns, flutes, and other instruments. The effect was startling-the congregation rose en masse, and sang the usual hymn to the 146th tune:

"Now let us praise the Lord

With body, soul, and spirit,
Who doth such wondrous things
Beyond our sense and merit;
Who, from our mother's womb
And earliest infancy,

Hath done great things for us-
Praise him eternally." &c.

We then received the benediction, and departed. Ah, we were happy then, and blithely and with light hearts did we reciprocate good wishes for "a happy new year."

These solemn festivals, as well as the "memorial days," attracted great numbers of persons, and it was by no means unusual to see Brethren from a considerable distance. Bishops Foster and Moore, the late Rev. C. I. Latrobe, author of "Travels in South Africa," and secretary to the missions, James Montgomery, Esq., the poet, himself a Moravian, and educated at Fulneck, Drs. Chalmers and Thompson, of Edinburgh, and Rev. Mr. Martyn, from Pertenhall, near Bedford, were amongst the many who visited the place. The latter, though a clergyman of the English church, officiated at the children's meeting and at the evening services. His son was a pupil in the school.

The afternoons of Wednesdays and Saturdays were entirely

See his "Fulneck Revisited."

devoted to recreation; sometimes they were spent in the "Baker's field," where we played at cricket, bologne, and other games. The other fields between the woods and the opposite hill, on the brow of which stand the buildings of Fulneck, are called "the bottoms," and here, in the quiet evenings of summer and the lovely mornings of spring, we used to ramble, or amuse ourselves with angling for an odd kind of fish which are numerous here, commonly called "bull heads;" and occasionally we succeeded in catching excellent trout. When the heat was oppressive, we betook ourselves to the woods, and gathered posies of wild flowers, or constructed arbours on the banks of the stream. These arbours were large enough to accommodate three or four of us, and assumed every variety of shape. The floors were covered with dried leaves and moss; and here we assembled in little parties, according to the friendships contracted amongst us. During the Midsummer vacation, 18-, the few boys that remained erected a large arbour in "the wood" at the foot of the gardens, where we retired during the day, either to listen to some interesting book, or to a tale of chivalry and romance.

One was a young Scotch laird, who had gathered many a legend from the old Highlanders, amongst whose cottages he used to wander for the purpose of listening to their songs and traditions, wild as their own mountains, in the fastnesses of which they dwelt. J—— F▬▬ certainly was an extraordinary genius. He often kept us listening for hours to his tales of second sight and other superstitions collected by him amongst this interesting people: and then his admiration of the works of Burns and of Ossian was unbounded. Oh, with what enthusiasm did he read and we listen to the fine yet simple songs of the Scottish bard. The "Hallow-e'en," "John Barleycorn," and the "Cotter's Saturday Night," were especial favourites. We were also greatly interested in an article on Snow Storms, in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. Fread it with much feeling, and described in splendid style the rugged scenery of those Highland passes. On such subjects John was always at home. He was the last of an ancient clan. His ancestors must have been men of great courage and daring; at any rate, the young laird recited many a stirring incident, and described many a sanguinary fray in which his clansmen had triumphed over southern marauders. And then F was himself a poet, and of no mean order for his age. On one occasion, when as was usual on the anniversary of the birth of the principal, the Rev. C. F. Reichel, the rest of us selected and appropriated a verse or more from the hymn-book, the young poet, spurning the idea of borrowing from another, wrote, as nearly as my memory serves me, the following couplet:

"While others send you hymns, I pray

That we may have a holiday!"

I forget whether the request was granted. Poor John F I wonder what has been his fate! Perhaps, like me, he is now recurring to the days we spent together in the romantic seclusion of dear happy Fulneck. I have preserved a few of his compositions, which are beautiful specimens of youthful genius.

Another name which I record with interest, is that of the late John Thompson, son of the late Rev. Dr. Thompson, of Edinburgh. This youth commenced music at the same time with myself, but soon left me at a remote distance. His compositions were really extraordinary. I have known the boys fling aside their books during "preparation hour" to listen while T-practised on the piano. Indeed, who could study while his master-hand swept the chords in harmony with some scene which had occurred in our reading, or conversation, or adventure during the day. One afternoon in class, Mr. Fredlizius had given us, instead of the "English Reader," a volume of Scott's "Old Mortality." The part selected was that which describes the journey of old Mause, Cuddie, and the Rev. Gabriel Kettledrummle, with the battle and death scene of Claverhouse. The effect of this narrative was only equalled by the music of the evening, when our young associate worked us up to pure enthusiasm. I was not wrong when I settled it in my own mind that John Thompson was destined for eminence. He afterward filled the professor's chair in the University of Edinburgh.

Another of my schoolfellows whose powers were early developed was W. Nelson, the son of one of the resident families. Nelson was in the same drawing class with me, conducted by Mr. Fredlizius, in the second room. Even then his talents were surprising. On one occasion, when set to copy a metzotint from Morland, Nelson did it so accurately, that every likeness was most correctly preserved; in fact, but for the superior freshness of the copy to that of the original, it would have been difficult to distinguish the one from the other. The metzotint was large, and the painting from which it was taken amongst the best of Morland's productions. Nelson is now a celebrated artist, and has published several works of great merit; one of them consists of a series of masterly sketches of Kirkstall Abbey.

To the foregoing I may add the names of the Rev. J. A. Latrobe, author of " Church Psalmody," &c. &c., domestic chaplain to the Right Honourable the Earl of Mountsandford; the Rev. John James Montgomery (nephew of the poet), and the Rev. George Traneker, both presbyters of the Moravian Church.

To me it is a pleasant thing to believe that this simple sketch may fall into the hands of some who will feel interested in these imperfectly recorded memorials of their boyish days; it would, therefore, be unnatural to omit the name of our universally-beloved tutor, the Rev. W. Edwards, in whose "room" it was my happi