of being transferred to a dungeon or to the parish stocks. For another antidote to the evil we are indebted to the eminent Christian prelates to whom the ordering of the Church Prayer Book had been intrusted in the time of Edward VI. That the clergy of the Established Church from the XVIe to the middle of the XVIIIe century were with a few brilliant exceptions unfaithful stewards of the treasures committed to them, grievously negligent of their pastoral duties, "dumb dogs," and, sad to say, often profoundly immoral cannot be denied; still a man habitually attending his parish church, could not fail to become acquainted with the main doctrines of the Christian faith. A priest might be ignorant, negligent, a sot, or even an unbeliever, but the Canon Law compelled him weekly to read to his parishioners the prayers and the lessons of the Prayer Book. That the admirable Prayer Book of the English Church was "the work of men's hands' is apparent, but it has always been a marvel to me when remembering how thoroughly our country had been impregnated by the foul idolatry of Rome, that we find in it so few traces of the ancient superstition. I feel assured that by God's blessing on the constant reading of the appointed services the Church of England, even during her days of gloom and shadow, was instrumental in saving millions of souls.

The deathlike sleep of the State Establishment was in the middle of the XVIII century broken by the trumpet voice of one of its own clergymen, John Wesley, who, with a heart full of love to God and man, wandered from village to village, calling all men to repentance, and the effect of his burning words, especially on the labouring classes, proved even to the good man's enemies and persecutors that his work was of God, and that they could not destroy it. Ere he was called to his eternal rest, he had the joy to see tens of thousands of his disciples rejoicing in the knowledge of the truth, and to leave a band of devoted men able and willing to follow in their highly gifted leader's steps, and continue his labours. No thinking man can deny the influence of Wesley on the religious life of England, but I question whether that influence is even now estimated at its full value. Such men are in my eyes the real heroes of the human race, because the real benefactors.

The arrival of the Moravians in Yorkshire was nearly contemporaneous with the religious revival,—the religious revolution would not be too strong a term,-inaugurated by Wesley, and zealously did they labour in the work of evangelisation. Their success was such as to induce them to build Fulneck, as a centre whence their preaching in the surrounding villages might be continued, and enable them at the same time to carry out the constitution and discipline of the mother church in Herrnhuth. Both these objects were ultimately attained, in spite of many difficulties, and from April 19th, 1755,* when Fulnec chapel was first opened for public worship, to this day

Among those who were on that day received into the Moravian Church, I am pleased to find the names of my maternal grandfather and great grandfather, James and Robert Lily.

the work has been steadily and faithfully performed to the awakening of many souls, and to the spiritual edification of successive generations of those who, by the Lord's leading, have been brought to cast in their lot with us. How wonderful and past finding out are the ways of God; verily He maketh the wrath of men to praise Him! What a striking example of this we see in the case of the Moravian exiles, where Jesuit persecution eventuated in spreading Gospel truth at home and in foreign lands, with a success that is marvellous in our eyes.

Well advised as our brethren were in choosing West Yorkshire as the field of their spiritual labours, their choice of a site for their village was singularly unfortunate. A stranger visiting the place would probably be struck by the pretty appearance of the main buildings along the terrace, which command a pleasing view of the sunny slope below and the well wooded hill opposite, but the deformities of the rest of Fulneck would assuredly impress him with the very false idea that necessity had actuated the builders in their choice. From the summit of the hill behind to the brook below, a distance of three quarters of a mile every acre was at their disposal, yet they pitched on the portion of the estate which was least fitted for the erection of a village. A conversation still remembered between count Zinzendorf and J. de Watteville, when riding along Tong Hill whence they had a view of the rising village, proves that it is to the former we owe the miseries resulting from the ill chosen site. I decline repeating the conversation, for my young relatives, necessarily ignorant as they are of the peculiar phraseology current in our church a century ago, would infallibly be tempted to charge both speakers with impiety and thus do them grievous wrong. Not the least of the evils resulting from the building of Fulneck where it stands was the extra expense necessarily incurred; the late M. William Mallalieu, an expert en chiffres, told me that quite as much money had been expended in preparing the ground for the reception of the buildings, as in the erection of the buildings themselves. The original blunder can never be effectually remedied, but I often think that something might, at a trifling expense, be done to mask some of the more prominent deformities of the upper part of the village. A row of stately pines or larches on the cragg now covered by unsightly brambles; the conversion of the slopes connecting the upper and lower street into a shrubbery, and the planting of a row of elms, beeches and horse chestnuts alongside the roads leading to the eastern and western gates would do much to cover the nakedness of the land.

My personal reminiscences of Fulneck are the pleasantest. During the years I spent in the school, then flourishing under the direction of the late Br Charles F. Reichel as it never flourished before,—we numbered no less than 120 pupils with a staff of 17 resident masters, -I was uniformly treated with a kindness for which I can never be sufficiently thankful. I believe that all my teachers are gone to their

eternal rest, with two exceptions; and nothing would afford me more pleasure than to be able personally to assure our venerable Bishop Br Edwards and our veteran missionary Br Bennet Harvey, how thoroughly I still appreciate the kindly treatment I uniformly received at their hands more than half a century ago. Happy as I had been in Fulneck, the idea of leaving it was most distressing to me. Never have I felt more vividly the truth of the German phrase: Scheiden thut weh" than on July 3rd 1821, dies mihi nefastus, when with an aching heart and oppressed with the gloomiest forebodings, I bade farewell to

The dear schoolboy spot

We ne'er forget, though there so soon forgot.

It is very probable that one or another of my nephews, on seeing how widely the modern form of a word differs from that which I have ventured to call its root, may suspect that I have drawn too largely on my fancy. It is possible that I have done so, but on the other hand I have no hesitation in asserting that one word may be derived from another, without the root and the derivative having a single letter in common. Some time ago, a number of the journal Notes and Queries fell into my hand, and Dr C., an acute philologian, there maintained that the French word yeux was derived from the Latin oculus, and I am satisfied that he fairly proved his case as to the derivation, but still of course I saw that the letter u was found in both the words. Thereupon I wrote to the editor, suggesting the words jour and dies as an instance of two words, standing in the relation of root and branch to each other, without a single letter in common; jour, giorno, diurnus, dies. As Dr C. demurred to my view, I consulted Littrê's great Dictionary, and his etymology of the word jour is as follows: jour,-Provencale jor,-Ital. giorno,-Lat. diurnus, dies. Thus may words be metamorphosed in the course of centuries. Here end my musings during my "creep to Prilly," and verily it is time they should, for on running my eye over my scribble I clearly see that their length and their worth are in an inverse ratio. UNCLE JOHN.

Lausanne, December 5, 1875.

(a). Howden, Hutton.

these two place names.

6

The adjective 'high' will not suit for

6

(b). Horton, Ireby. Higher' is certainly not meant. (c). Hopton and Apperley have no connection with up.' (d). Walton is more likely to be derived from Latin Vallum, and indicate a Roman settlement.

(e). A pencil note in the pamphlet gives Eccleshill, A. S. ac; Icel. eyk; Ger. eiche, oak. We have, however, no doubt it is from its Anglian owner Aikil.

(f) Derwent has nothing to do with ‘oak,' any more than Calder. Celtic, der-water.

(g). Guiseley and Gisburn are named after Guy, who probably never thought himself a goose.

(h). Fawks. Falkasius in old deeds had probably no connection with hairy,' and the etymology of the honoured name Foljambe is very lame, nay ridiculous. Rigg and Clough are undoubtedly derived from the families residing on the ridge or in the clough.

(i). "Ark, in Craven, means a meal chest, and the makers were called Arkwrights. Arc, A. S. earc, a chest. Dr. J. H. Dixon."

(j). Ackroyd, Murgatroyd, &c. Moor-gate-rode is the original form of the second name, and royd is a "clearing or ridding" and altogether distinct from rood, a cross.

(k). Sidebotham, Sedbergh. The suggestion of A. S. saed, seed, is very unfortunate. Sedbergh is miserable corn land.

(1). Goosey Gisburn crops up again, but it is a sorry substitute for the toothsome morsel.

(m). Fleece-by for Flasby is, like many more outlandish conjectures, too ridiculous to be seriously controverted. If we had the names of early Anglian owners, there would be an end to such wild guesses in such names as Flasby, Gersington, Malham, Rilston, Silsden, Otley.

(n). Shelf is on a shelf, and has nought to crumble about.

(o). Keighley from cow-field is a preposterous and unhappy guess. It is safe to state that, like those under (m), it is derived from its early owner, as Dr. Whitaker gives it.

(p). Idle, anciently Idell, Idill, there is little or no doubt is derived from Ide, its owner.

(q). The elks at Ilkley is a rich thought! We wish we had seen this before writing about Llecan or Olicana; and also Haworth from the high worth, though we prefer to think high is not the true meaning. Unfortunate Ben Rhydding! Poor Ben has been more than fossilized whilst his neighbours Dan and Jack have still commonplace riddings.

(r). Elland is the Ea, or water-land. The story of the pilgrims is a beautiful fancy, as also the holy hair. The Royds, as before stated are simply riddings, or clearings of tree roots.

(s). Sowerby. This pig tale is remarkably twisted, and as untrue as the Bees' town, near Leeds.

(t). Osset. The writer had evidently not seen any ancient deeds or he would have known Hartshet, Lupset and some similar ets were written Hartisheved, Lupsheved, and means 'head.' Instead of the last planetary deluge having left a gigantic boulder at Menston, the writer has dropped a gigantic blunder for the old spelling is Mensington. Stone and Ton must be carefully distinguished in Yorkshire.

(u). Mirfield. Yorkshire people know what pismires are, but Mirfielders are not so biting as that. It is really marvellous how wildly people guess by similarity of spellings or sound. Newspaper columns for some years have contained long articles on place names, and nearly every writer has drawn on his (or her) imagination,

instead of discovering the earliest spellings, and considering the geographical position of each place. Tingley was formerly Thinglawe, but Bingley was never Bhinglawe. Lawe and ley have almost opposite meanings. Mirfield ants and Dewsbury doves! beautiful but not true. Fartown is as plain as a pike-staff, without the farfetched sheep, whilst Farrer is certainly not synonymous with Shep

herd.

We have thus indicated the chief foolish conjectures of this pamphlet, and in doing so have more particularly in view the thousands of lines of similar guesswork that have been written during the last ten years. The uniqueness of this pamphlet is the excuse for printing it in these pages.

[The author of this tract we now learn was a Mr. Sharman, brother-in-law of Rev. Godfrey Clemens.]

Old Yorkshire Tales.

THE WISE WOMAN OF LITTONDALE.-In Hone's "Table Book" is to be found the following legendary story:-"In the year 17-, in a lonely gill not far from Arncliffe, stood a solitary cottage; a more wretched habitation the imagination cannot picture. It contained a single apartment, inhabited by an old woman called Bertha, who was throughout the valley accounted a wise woman, and a practiser of the 'art that none may name.' In the autumn, or rather in the latter end of the summer of 17—, I set out one evening to visit the cottage of the wise woman. I had never beheld the interior, and led on by curiosity and mischief, was determined to see it. Having arrived at the cottage, I knocked at the gate. Come in' said a voice, which I knew to be Bertha's. I entered; the old woman was seated on a three-legged stool, by a turf fire, surrounded by three black cats and an old sheep-dog. Well,' she exclaimed, 'what brings you here? What can have induced you to pay a visit to old Bertha ?' I answered, 'Be not offended; I have never before this evening viewed the interior of your cottage, and wishing to do so have made this visit; I wished also to see you perform some of your incantations.' I pronounced the last word ironically, and Bertha observed it, and said, "Then you doubt my power, think me an imposter, and consider my incantations mere jugglery; you may think otherwise; but sit down by my humble hearth, and in less than half-an-hour you shall see such an instance of my power as I have never hitherto allowed mortal to witness, I obeyed, and approached the fire. I now gazed around me, and minutely viewed the apartment. Three stools, an old deal table, and a few pans, three pictures of Merlin, Nostradamus, and Michael Scott, a cauldron, and a sack, with the contents of which I was unacquainted, formed the whole stock of Bertha. The witch having sat by me a few minutes, rose and said, 'Now for our incantations; behold me but interrupt me not.' She then with chalk drew a circle on the floor, and in the midst of it placed a chafing dish filled with burning embers;