igious sentiments are most universal; the national character is impressed with them, and it is from them that the genius of the arts and of literature draws all its inspiration. In short, among the lower orders, religion in the north of Germany bears an ideal and gentle character, which singularly surprises us in a country where we have been accustomed to think the manners very rude.

Once as I was travelling from Dresden to Leipsic, I stopped for the evening at Meissen, a little village situated upon an eminence over the river, and the church of which contains tombs consecrated to illustrious recollections. I walked upon the esplanade, and suffered myself to sink into that sort of reverie which the setting sun, the distant view of the landscape, and the sound of the stream that flows at the bottom of the valley, so easily excite in our souls; I then caught the voices of some common persons, and I was afraid of hearing such vulgar words as are elsewhere sung in the streets. What was my astonishment, when I understood the burden of their song: They loved each other, and they died, hoping one day to meet again! Happy that country where such feelings are popular; and spread abroad, even into the air we breathe, I know not what religious fellowship, of which love for heaven. and pity for man form the touching union!

CHAPTER III.

MORAVIAN MODE OF WORSHIP.

THERE is perhaps too much freedom in Protestantism to satsfy a certain religious austerity, which may seize upon the man who is overwhelmed by great misfortunes; sometimes even in the habitual course of life, the reality of this world disappears all at once, and we feel ourselves in the middle of

its interests as we should at a ball, where we did not hear the music; the dancing that we saw there would appear insane. A species of dreaming apathy equally seizes upon the Brahinin and the savage, when one by the force of thought, and the other by the force of ignorance, passes entire hours in the dumb contemplation of destiny. The only activity of which the human being is then susceptible, is that which has divine worship for its object. IIe loves to do something for Heaven every moment; and it is this disposition which gives their attraction to convents, however great may be their inconvenience in other respects.

The Moravians are the monks of Protestantism; and the religious enthusiasm of northern Germany gave them birth about a hundred years ago. But although this association is as severe as a Catholic convent, it is more liberal in its principles. No vows are taken there; all is voluntary; men and women are not separated, and marriage is not forbidden. Nevertheless the whole society is ecclesiastical; that is, every thing is done there by religion and for it; the authority of the church rules this community of the faithful, but this church is without priests, and the sacred office is fulfilled there in turn by the most religious and venerable persons.

Men and women, before marriage, live separately from each other in assemblies, where the most perfect equality reigns. The entire day is filled with labor; the same for every rank ; the idea of Providence, constantly present, directs all the actions of the life of the Moravians.

When a young man chooses to take a companion, he addresses himself to the female superintendents of girls or widows, and demands of them the person he wishes to espouse. They draw lots in the church, to know whether he ought to marry the woman whom he prefers; and if the lot is against him, he gives up his demand. The Moravians have such a habit o. resignation, that they do not resist this decision; and as they only see the women at church, it costs them less to renounce. their choice. This manner of deciding upon marriage, and ipon many other circumstances of life, indicates the genera

spirit of the Moravian worship. Instead of keeping themselves. submitted to the will of Heaven, they fancy they can learn it by inspirations, or, what is still more strange, by interrogating Chance. Duty and events manifest to man the views of God concerning the earth; how can we flatter ourselves with the notion of penetrating them by other means?

We observe, in other respects, among the generality of Mo ravians, evangelical manners, such as they must have existed from the time of the Apostles, in Christian communities. Neither extraordinary doctrines nor scrupulous practices constitute the bond of this association; the Gospel is there interpreted in the most natural and clear manner; but they are there faithful to the consequences of this doctrine, and they make their conduct, under all relations, harmonize with their religious principles. The Moravian communities serve, above all, to prove that Protestantism, in its simplicity, may lead to the most austere sort of life, and the most enthusiastic religion; death and immortality, well understood, are sufficient to occupy and to direct the whole of existence.

I was some time ago at Dintendorf, a little village near Erfurt, where a Moravian community is established. This village is three leagues distant from every great road; it is situated between two mountains, upon the banks of a rivulet; willows and lofty poplars environ it; there is something tranquil and sweet in the look of the country, which prepares the soul to free itself from the turbulence of life. The buildings and the streets are marked by perfect cleanliness; the women, all clothed alike, hide their hair, and bind their head with a riband, whose color indicates whether they are married, maidens, or widows; the men are clothed in brown, almost like the Quakers. Mercantile industry employs nearly all of them; but one does not hear the least noise in the village. Everybody works in regularity and silence; and the internal action of religious feeling lulls to rest every other impulse.

The girls and widows live together in a large dormitory, and during the night, one of them has her turn to watch, for the vurpose of praying, or of taking care of those who may be ill

The unmarried men live in the same manner. Thus there exists a great family for him who has none of his own; and the name of brother and sister is common to all Christians.

Instead of bells, wind instruments, of a very sweet harmony, summon them to divine service. As we proceeded to church by the sound of this imposing music, we felt ourselves carried away from the earth; we fancied that we heard the trumpets of the last judgment, not such as remorse makes us fear them, but such as a pious confidence makes us hope them; it seemed as if the divine compassion manifested itself in this appeal, and pronounced beforehand the pardon of regeneration.

The church was dressed out in white roses, and blossoms of white thorn; pictures were not banished from the temple, and music was cultivated as a constituent part of religion; they only sang psalms; there was neither sermon, nor mass, nor argument, nor theological discussion; it was the worship of God in spirit and in truth. The women, all in white, were ranged by each other without any distinction whatever; they looked like the innocent shadows who were about to appear together before the tribunal of the Divinity.

The burying-ground of the Moravians is a garden, the walks of which are marked out by funeral-stones; and by the side of each is planted a flowering shrub. All these gravestones are equal; not one of these shrubs rises above the other; and the same epitaph scrves for all the dead: He was born on such a day; and on such another he returned into his native country. Excellent expression to designate the end of our life! The ancients said: He lived; and thus threw a veil over the tomb, to divest themselves of its idea. The Christians place over it the star of hope.

On Easter-day, divine service is performed in the buryingground, which is close to the church, and the resurrection is announced in the middle of the tombs. Every one who is present at this act of worship, knows the stone that is to be placed over his coffin; and already breathes the perfume of the young tree, whose leaves and flowers will overhang his omb. It is thus that we have seen, in modern times, an en

tire army assisting at its own funeral rites, pronouncing for itself the service of the dead, decided in belief that it was to conquer immortality.'

The communion of the Moravians cannot adapt itself to the social state, such as circumstances ordain it to be; but as it has been long and frequently asserted that Catholicism alone addressed the imagination, it is of consequence to remark, that what truly touches the soul in religion is common to all Christian churches. A sepulchre and a prayer exhaust all the power of the pathetic; and the more simple the faith, the more emotion is caused by the worship.

CHAPTER IV.

OF CATHOLICISM.

THE Catholic religion is more tolerant in Germany than in any other country. The peace of Westphalia having fixed the rights of the different religions, they no longer feared their mutual invasions; and, besides, this mixture of modes of worship, in a great number of towns, has necessarily induced the occasion of observing and judging each other. In religious as well as in political opinions, we make a phantom of our adversaries, which is almost always dissipated by their presence; sympathy presents a fellow-creature in him whom we believed

an enemy.

Protestantism being much more favorable to knowledge than Catholicism, the Catholics in Germany have put themselves in a sort of defensive position, which is very injurious to the progress of information. In the countries where the Catholic eligion reigned alone, such as France and Italy, they have known how to unite it to literature and to the fine arts; but

1 The allusion in this passage is to the siege of Saragossa.