The system invaded the sanctity of family life. As the Count was a family man himself, he very properly took the deepest interest in the training of little children; and, in season and out of season, he insisted that the children of Christian parents should be screened from the seductions of the world, the flesh and the devil. "It is nothing less than a scandal," he said, "that people think so little of the fact that their children are dedicated to the Lord. Children are little kings; their baptism is their anointing; and as kings they ought to be treated from the first." For this purpose he laid down the rule that all infants should be baptized in the hall, in the presence of the whole congregation; and as soon as the children were old enough to learn, he had them taken from their homes, and put the little boys in one school and the little girls in another. And thus the burden of their education fell not on the parents, but on the congregation. Again, the Count carried out his ideas in the "vasty halls of death." Of all the sacred spots in Herrnhut there were none more sacred and more awe-inspiring than the "God's Acre" which the Brethren laid out on the Hutberg. There, in the bosom of Mother Earth, the same division into choirs was preserved. To the Count the tomb was a holy place. If a visitor ever came to Herrnhut, he was sure to take him to the God's Acre, and tell him the story of those whose bones awaited the resurrection of the just. The God's Acre became the scene of an impressive service {1733.}. At an early hour on Easter Sunday the Brethren assembled in the sacred presence of the dead, and waited for the sun to rise. As the golden rim appeared on the horizon, the minister spoke the first words of the service. "The Lord is risen," said the minister. "He is risen indeed!" responded the waiting throng. And then, in the beautiful language of Scripture, the Brethren joined in a solemn confession of faith. The trombones that woke the morning echoes led the anthem of praise, and one and all, in simple faith, looked onward to the glorious time when those who lay in the silent tomb should hear the voice of the Son of God, and be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. To the Brethren the tomb was no abode of dread. In a tomb the Lord Himself had lain; in a tomb His humble disciples lay "asleep"; and therefore, when a brother departed this life, the mourners never spoke of him as dead. "He is gone home," they said; and so death lost his sting.