A Moravian settlement!  As we enter it, it seems as if we stepped into another sphere, so utterly unlike is it to the bustle and hurry of the age of progress which prevails in the outer world that presses so closely upon its borders, and against which it quietly but firmly opposes the bulwarks of its ancient customs, the simplicity of its regulations, and the severity of its discipline.  It has no intercourse with the tide of human life surging around it.  It seems like a small body of Christians, left from the Apostolic age, that after being buried for centuries has been dug out in later days.  The government of the community resembles that of a large family bound together by ties of love; all its members are brothers and sisters, divided, according to age, sex, and conditions of life, into bands called choruses, at the head of each an elder, either male or female, presiding and superintending its spiritual affairs and enforcing its daily discipline.  Each elder gives in a report of all that occurs in the chorus to the Conference, as this is the chief board of management in the society.  There is, therefore, nothing which transpires in the life of any individual that is not brought before this tribunal.

About ten o’clock one morning, an elegant carriage, drawn by two spirited horses, passed through the quiet, scrupulously clean streets of the settlement, and drew up at the door of the hotel, or, as they call it, the general lodging-house; and from the vehicle sprang a young and very distinguished-looking gentleman with erect, military bearing and noble features.  He was followed by a lady, and a young girl of about twelve years of age, and a tall, lanky lad who had not yet lost his boyish awkwardness.

“Unharness and take the trunk to the Sisters’ house,” said the gentleman to the coachman.

The newly-arrived guests entered the sitting-room, which was entirely unoccupied, and whose clean, freshly-sanded floor seemed almost to shine with a consciousness of its own spotlessness.  The host, a quiet old man, entered to receive their commands, which he attended to in person.  Everything was done silently; not even the plates and glasses rattled as they were placed on the-table; and when all was prepared, the man left the room, not attempting, after the manner of hosts in general, to enter into conversation with his guests, or to ply them with questions as to whence they came, whither they were going, etc.

The lady, a very remarkable-looking woman, was apparently the mother of the three others, but seemed young to be the parent of the eldest, who had evidently numbered thirty years.

The breakfast, which was excellent and well served, was quickly disposed of; and dinner being ordered for two o’clock, the little party left the house.  On the street, the same stillness, the same absence of people prevailed as elsewhere.

“Do you know the way to the Sisters’ house, mother?” asked the young man of the lady as they led the way, the two younger ones following behind.