I have this morning paid a visit to the nunnery of the Franciscan order here. I had seen above the lofty wall of its garden, two walnut trees stretching out, partly verdant and partly withered branches, and I felt a desire to see the women, who, in the midst of this grand and beautiful natural scenery, shut themselves in forever, (for these nuns are under a vow of perpetual seclusion,) behind walls which prevent them from even seeing any thing of it. This convent receives, as I was informed, only ladies of high family, and it requires a very considerable portion to enable them to enter.
In the “Frau Mutter,” with whom one converses through a grated window, I found a very charming, middle-aged lady, of great refinement of features and manners. The loveliness of her hands, and the delicate tips of her fingers, showed her to be of aristocratic birth. She answered my questions with simplicity and frankness. This order belongs to the contemplative, and, pre-eminently, to the praying class. The nuns have many and severe fasts. They have divine service every night from eleven o'clock till two. Their prayers cease only when the hour commences at which another praying choir, in another convent, takes up the prayers and performs service for the living and the dead. For the whole twenty-four hours, the whole year round, must these continue, without interruption, in the Catholic Church. Good and beautiful in thought! But who can answer for the carrying of it out? And can any blessing, either for the living or the dead, be expected from these prescribed Latin prayers, uttered by half-sleepy bodies and
