now connected with a convent of French nuns, and when we rang at a side
door, one of the sisterhood answered the summons, and admitted us into
the church. This, like that of the Capuchins', had a vaulted roof over
the nave, and no side aisles, but rows of chapels instead. Unlike the
Capuchins', which was filthy, and really disgraceful to behold, this
church was most exquisitely neat, as women alone would have thought it
worth while to keep it. It is not a very splendid church, not rich in
gorgeous marbles, but pleasant to be in, if it were only for the sake of
its godly purity. There was only one person in the nave; a young girl,
who sat perfectly still, with her face towards the altar, as long as we
stayed. Between the nave and the rest of the church there is a high iron
railing, and on the other side of it were two kneeling figures in black,
so motionless that I at first thought them statues; but they proved to be
two nuns at their devotions; and others of the sisterhood came by and by
and joined them. Nuns, at least these nuns, who are French, and probably
ladies of refinement, having the education of young girls in charge, are
far pleasanter objects to see and think about than monks; the odor of
sanctity, in the latter, not being an agreeable fragrance. But these
holy sisters, with their black crape and white muslin, looked really pure
and unspotted from the world.

On the iron railing above mentioned was the representation of a golden
heart, pierced with arrows; for these are nuns of the Sacred Heart. In
the various chapels there are several paintings in fresco, some by
Daniele da Volterra; and one of them, the "Descent from the Cross," has
been pronounced the third greatest picture in the world. I never should
have had the slightest suspicion that it was a great picture at all, so
worn and faded it looks, and so hard, so difficult to be seen, and so
undelightful when one does see it.