en committed without remorse, poor monks, tormented by scruples
of conscience, impose upon themselves the most cruel punishment for the
slightest fault. "_Our only hope_," said one of these devotees, "_is
that at the hour of death our sins will not have exceeded our
penances_." Lord Nelville, as he entered this monastery struck his foot
against a trap, and asking the use of it--"_It leads to our place of
interment_;" said one of the young monks, who was already struck with
the malady caused by the malaria. The inhabitants of the south being
very much afraid of death, we are astonished to find institutions in
Italy which fix the ideas upon this point; but it is natural to be fond
of thoughts that inspire us with dread. There is, as it were, an
intoxication of sadness, which does good to the soul by occupying it
entirely.

An ancient Sarcophagus of a young child serves for the fountain to this
convent. The beautiful Palm-tree of which Rome boasts, is the only tree
of any sort in the garden of these monks; but they pay no attention to
external objects. Their discipline is too rigorous to allow any kind of
latitude to the mind. Their looks are cast down, their gait is slow,
they make no use of their will. They have abdicated the government of
themselves, _so fatiguing is this empire to its sad possessor_. This
day, however, did not produce much emotion in the soul of Oswald; the
imagination revolts at death, presented under all its various forms in a
manner so manifestly intentional. When we unexpectedly meet this
_memento mori_, when it is nature and not man that speaks to our soul,
the impression we receive is much deeper.

Oswald felt the most calm and gentle sensations when, at sunset, he
entered the garden of _San Giovanni e Paolo_. The monks of this
monastery are subjected to a much less rigid discipline, and their
garden commands a view of all the ruins of ancient Rome. From this spot
is seen the Coliseum, the Forum, and all the triumphal arches, the
obelisks, and the pillars which remain standing. What a fine situation
for such an asylum! The secluded monks are consoled for their own
nothingness, in contemplating the monuments raised by those who are no
more. Oswald strolled for a long time beneath the umbrageous walks of
this garden, whose beautiful trees sometimes interrupt for a moment the
view of Rome, only to redouble the emotion which is felt on beholding it
again. It was that hour of the evening, when all th