orms a promenade of about a hundred feet in length,
by twenty-five in width.

The regulations of this convent are much less strict than those observed
by all other religious communities. It would not otherwise have been
possible to obtain permission to visit the establishment in detail. The
_monjas cavalleras_ (knight-nuns) of the military order of Santiago,
take the white veil only, and not the black. If a nun inherits a
property, she obtains permission from the council of military orders,
sitting at Madrid, to absent herself from the convent for the purpose of
transacting all necessary business. The same permission may be obtained
in cases of illness. In taking the vows there is no prostration beneath
the veil. The novice crosses her hands in a kneeling posture, and takes
the oath on the Gospel. One is struck by something invincibly puzzling
in this amalgamation of military regulation with religious hierarchy and
female seclusion. They call themselves knights; their abbess, commander.
The king, as Grand Master of the military orders (since Ferdinand the
Fifth) of Calatrava, Alcantara, and Santiago, is their recognised chief;
and whenever military mass is required to be performed, the troops march
into their chapel to beat of drum.

I was even assured that these recluses are not obliged to refuse a hand
offered for a waltz, if it belongs to an arm having an epaulette at its
other extremity; and that such scenes are known to occur in the presence
of the commandress herself.

Our party, formed for the visit to this convent, having been presented
to the superior, she gave directions to a nun to show us every part of
the establishment. This sister, who, we were told, bore the title and
rank of serjeantess (sargenta), possessed the remains of great beauty,
and her (probably) forty summers had not injured her commanding and
graceful figure. No sooner had she ushered us into the choir than she
left us for an instant, and returned with her mantle of ceremony,--the
costume in which they take the vow, and in which they appear on all
occasions of solemnity. It was with evident satisfaction that she
performed this part of her duties of cicerone; nor was it to be wondered
at. No costume could have been invented better calculated to set off her
natural advantages. It is composed of a sort of white serge, and
appears to have no seam. Attached round the shoulders it sweeps the
ground with a train of four or five feet. A cross of sca