throats of the young girls, their lovely plaits of hair, and beautiful forms became visible, had in it something strange and a little revolting; it might have been supposed that they were about to make their toilette for the night. Deep silence prevailed through, the church. I cast a glance at the priests who served at the ceremony. They watched the white doves with outstretched necks and greedy eyes, not with an evil and cynical expression, but smiling and inquisitive, as if they were amused by the scene. When the disrobing of all the finery was completed, the young girls bowed themselves to the ground, and the choir began to sing;
“Veni Spiritus Creator!”
During the singing, which might have been better, the sisters remained lying prostrate. Above the altar was a picture which expressed the presence of the Spirit better than the singing. It was a portrait of San Filippo de Neri, the founder of the convent, and one of the latest men of Italy whose piety was of the grand character. He is represented in the transport of prayer, and with an expression as if the peace and blessedness of heaven were already his. A picture of rare simplicity, and inward feeling, but by what master, I know not.
When the singing was concluded, the young girls rose from the ground, and the attiring now commenced. The new dresses, which were laid in order on the altar, were brought to the Cardinal on two trays, who then took them piece by piece, and gave to the two, who still knelt; whilst in so doing, he said a few words as to what they indicated. After this, the
