kindness as is consistent with the object held in view. One trait of
this kindness struck us as involving a remarkable delicacy: there is
never, from first to last, one word of reference made to their former
life. They are accepted as so many children coming to school for the
first time. Even their names are sunk out of sight, and new ones
applied. The Sisters speak of them as 'the children.' We learned that
Protestant women are welcomed, but are expected not to stand out in
inconvenient dissent from the ordinary rules of the house. We walked
into the garden under the care of the mother-superior, and saw their
little burial-ground, marked with low wooden crosses inscribed to
Laura, to Perpetua, to Mary of the Seven Dolours, and other such
names, indicating so many unfortunates who had here found a rest from
their troubles. We likewise visited the chapel, the body of which is
arranged for the use of the sisterhood; while a wing running off at
the side of the altar, and concealed from view, is provided with
seats for the penitents. The whole establishment is characterised by
remarkably good taste. There is here a more cheerful tone than in the
Great Windmill Street institution. The Sisters spoke, as usual, of
being entirely happy--that unaccountable phenomenon to a Protestant
mind.

We do not need to inform the reader, that conventual establishments
are not now so thin-sown in England as they were a few years ago, or
that they occasionally draw into their circle individuals who started
in life with very different prospects before them. The whole subject
is one worthy of some inquiry, as a feature of our social state, by no
means devoid of political importance; and it is for this very reason
that we draw attention to the subject. Instead of contemptuously
ignoring such things, let them, we say, be made known and investigated
in a calm and philosophical spirit. It is for want of a steady