CONVENT AT SANTIAGO. 



197 



ing in Latin through iron bars to candles and 

 pictures. 



On my right there was a young monk, who 

 remained on a bench close to the wall all the time I 

 was there. He was confessing a nun through some 

 holes in a plate of tin, which was let into the 

 convent wall which separated them ; and since the 

 days of Pyramus and Thisbe, there can never have 

 been a more regular flirtation. The monk was 

 much more anxious to talk than to hear, and I 

 could not help smiling when I saw him with great 

 eagerness of countenance putting sometimes his 

 mouth, and sometimes his ear, to the tin plate. 

 However, when I turned towards the group of old 

 nuns who were before me, I felt that it mattered 

 but little to society, whether they were confessing 

 their old sins, or planning new ones ; but it was 

 distressing to think that the young and the innocent, 

 who were rising in the world, were still the victims 

 of such a mistaken custom — for surely nothing can 

 tend to blunt the good feelings of the young more 

 than the reflection that even their thoughts of yes- 

 terday are already recorded by a man ; and if an 

 evil genius wished to prepare a man who should be 



