Last Sunday ... never shall I forget that glorious day! when the first beams of the sun were discovered rising from behind the hills of snow, and began to tinge the lake with crimson, all the young maidens of our quarter were already assembled on the green meadow before my father’s house—(you know, that Henric Melthal is universally respected, on account both of his age and his wisdom.)—We were to proceed to the neighbouring church in solemn procession, and as Henric’s daughter the right of heading the company was mine: but I resigned my place favour of a stranger damsel, who has lately arrived at our village, and who (however exalted may be her proper rank) has become so well acquainted with its disadvantages, that she has been induced to resign it, and seek comfort and oblivion for past sorrows in the bosom of rural tranquillity. Dear lady, could you but see this unknown maiden.... She has adopted our simple dress, and her peasant’s habit makes it as difficult to with-hold admiration from her, as to discover her: I mean to say, that it alters her appearance so much, that whoever had known her in more costly apparel, would scarcely recognize her in her present garb. I saw her for the first time so drest on this occasion; she has of late been resident in the Convent of Engelberg, and.... But I am running on, forgetful that I meant to describe to you the festivities of last Sunday. As we moved on under the guidance of our elected queen, our white robes and unbound ringlets fluttered loose in the morning-air, whose freshness stained our cheeks with a deeper red, and even spread a slight tinge over the lovely pale face of our Conductress. It was Easter-day; with songs, pious and joyful such as suited the occasion, we reached the Lake, where a croud of painted boats waited to waft us to the opposite shore, on which the grey spires of the Convent-church were discernable; and thither was our pilgrimage directed. Long ago, a Convent was established here respecting which there are still many traditions current; but now nothing of it remains but a heap of ruins. The church however is still in perfect preservation. It is never opened, except on Easter-day: and as the Friars hold this place in abhorrence as having been the scene of many monastic crimes and of Heavenly vengeance, it has ever been found difficult to persuade any of them to officiate within these deserted walls. On these occasions, therefore, the short service is frequently performed merely under the superintendance of the two elders of our village. The service consists of nothing more than the expansion and humiliation of the heart before the Almighty for a few minutes in adoring silence, and a solemn hymn chaunted by the whole united congregation, the words and melody of which are equally simple to the ear and affecting to the heart.