vanced to the altar. The officiating Priest was the Cardinal Vicario, a fine looking old man: the discourse from the pulpit was pronounced by a Dominican Monk, who addressed her as the affianced spouse of Christ-a saint on earth;—one who had renounced the vanities of the world, for a foretaste of the joys of heaven. There was much eulogium, and little of admonition; much rhapsody, and little sober reason or religion in it; very much that was calculated to inflame the inexperienced imagination, but little that could direct the erring judgment.

"The sermon ended, the lovely victim herself, kneeling before the altar at the feet of the Cardinal, solemnly abjured that world whose pleasures and affections she seemed so well calculated to enjoy, and pronounced those irrevocable vows which severed her from them for ever.

"As her voice, in soft recitative, chaunted these fatal words, I believe there was scarcely an eye in the whole of that vast church, unmoistened by tears.

"The diamonds that sparkled in her dark hair were taken off, and her long and beautiful tresses fell luxuriantly down her shoulders. One lock of it was cut off by the Cardinal.

"The grate that was to entomb her was opened; the Abbess and her black train of Nuns appeared: their choral voices chaunted a strain of welcome. It said, or seemed to say,

"Sister Spirit, come away!"

She renounced her name and title-adopted a new appellation, received the solemn benediction of the Cardinal, and the last embraces of her weeping friends, and passed that bourne through which she was never to return.

"A pannel behind the high altar now opened, and she appeared at the grate again. Here she was despoiled of her

splendid ornaments: her beautiful hair was mercilessly severed from her head by the fatal shears of the Sisters; and holding up a temporary curtain, they hastened behind it, to take off her own rich dress, and invest her with the sober robes of the Nun-the white coif, and the noviciate veil. This veil, it may be necessary to cxplain, is a piece of cloth fixed on the top or back of the head, and falling down behind, or on each side, in the same manner as on a veiled statue. It is not intended to conceal the face, nor can it answer that purpose; so that all you read in romances about blushing Nuns or Novices pulling down their veils to save them from the gaze of some admiring youth, is sheer nonsense. Indeed, they are in no danger of being incommoded with it, as they can never more be seen by man. Their ordinary devotions are practised in a private chapel within the convent; and when they attend Mass, they sit at the top of a lofty church, completely screened from view by a gilded grating, so close, that it is impervious to the external gaze, though the Nuns can see through it.

The dress of the Franciscan Order, and, indeed, of every other I have ever seen, is plain and coarse, and far from beautiful. The gown is a black stuff, but with a waist so long, and a petticoat so full, that it is a complete disguise to the figure. The graces of the Venus de Medicis herself, if she were attired in such habiliments, would be lost. But the quantity of white linen that surrounded the head and face, was rather becoming to the bright eyes and lovely countenance of the young Novice; and when the curtain was removed, we all agreed she looked prettier than before.

"Throughout the whole ceremony she showed great calmness and fairness, and it was not till all was over, that her eyes were moistened with the tears of natural emotions. She afterwards appeared at the little postern gate of the convent, to

receive the sympathy, and praise, and congratulations of all her friends and acquaintance; nay, even of strangers; all of whom are expected to pay their compliments to the new spouse of heaven."

The following portrait of a devout Roman Catholic, describes with faithful minuteness, the will worship of this religion of Ceremonial Observances.-"Imagine him retiring to his bed in the night. The walls of his room are covered with pictures of all sizes. Upon a table there is a wooden or brass figure of our Saviour nailed to the cross, with two wax candles, ready to be lighted, at each side. Our Romanist carefully locks the door; lights up the candles, kneels before the cross, and beats his breast with his clenched right hand, till it rings again in a hollow sound. It is probably a Friday, a day of penance; the good man looks pale and weak. I know the reason-he has made but one meal on that day, and that on fish; had he tasted meat, he feels assured he should have subjected his soul to the pangs of hell. But the mortifications of the day are not over. He unlocks a small cupboard, and takes out a scull, which he kisses, and places upon the table at the foot of the crucifix. He then strips off part of his clothes, and with a scourge, composed of small twisted ropes hardened with wax, lays stoutly to the right and left, till his bare skin is ready to burst with accumulated blood. The discipline, as it is called, being over, he mutters several prayers, turning to every picture in the room. He then rises to go to bed; but before he ventures into it, he puts his finger into a little cup which hangs at a short distance over his pillow, and sprinkles, with the fluid it contains, the bed and the room in various directions, and finally moistens his forehead in the form of a cross. The cup you must know, contains holy-water, water in which a Priest has put some salt, making over it the

sign of the cross several times, and saying some prayers, which the Church of Rome has inserted for this purpose, in the mass book. The use of that water, as our Roman Catholic has been taught to believe, is to prevent the devil from approaching the places which have been recently sprinkled with it; and he does not feel himself safe in his bed, without the precaution which I have described. The holy-water has besides, an internal and spiritual power of washing away venial sins-those slight sins I mean, which according to the Romanists, if unrepented or unwashed away by holy-water, or the sign of the cross made by the hand of a Bishop, or some other five or six methods, which I will not trouble you with, will keep the venial sinner in purgatory for a certain time. The operations of the devout Roman Catholic are probably not yet done. On the other side of the holy-water cup, there hangs a frame holding a large cake of wax, with figures raised by a mould, not unlike a large butter-pat. It is an Agnus Dei, blest by the Pope, which is not to be had except it can be imported from Rome. I believe the wax is kneaded with some earth from the place where the bones of the supposed martyrs are dug up. Whoever possesses one of these spiritual treasures, enjoys the benefit of a great number of indulgences; for, each kiss impressed on the wax, gives him the whole value of fifty or one hundred days employed in doing penance and good works; the amount of which is to be struck off the debt which he has to pay in purgatory. I should not wonder if our good man, before laying himself to sleep, were to feel about his neck, for his rosary or beads. Perhaps he has one of a particular value, and like that which I was made to wear next my skin, when a boy. A Priest had brought it from Rome, where it had been made, if we believe the certificates, of bits of the very stones with which the first Martyr, Stephen, was put to

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death. Being satisfied that the rosary hangs still on his neck, he arranges its companion, the scapulary, formed of two square pieces of the stuff which is exclusively worn by some religious order. By means of the scapulary, he is assured either that the Virgin Mary will not allow him to remain in Purgatory beyond the Saturday next after the day of his death; or he is made partaker of all the penances and good works performed by the religious of the order to which the scapulary belongs. At last, having said a prayer to the angel, who, he believes, keeps a constant guard over him, the devout Romanist composes himself to sleep, touching his forehead, his breast, and the two shoulders, to form the figure of a cross." pp. 72-74.

White,

MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVANCES.

Blessing of Cattle.-On St. Antonio's Day, January 16, all the animals are taken to be blessed, at the church dedicated to his service. The church itself is neither grand nor handsome. Amongst the miracles attributed to the Saint, and painted on the walls, with written explanations of each of them, is the following:-"When the holy man had retired into a solitude, he sowed corn, which the beasts of the neighbourhood ate up. He caught one of these plunderers, but instead of killing it, he gave it its liberty again, with these words: 'Begone, in the name of God, but do not return!' After which, none of them ever touched his crops." This is probably the origin of the singular ceremony which we came to witness.