a flight of spacious stairs, which she ascended with us. At the top we were joined by two other nuns, apparently about the age of forty, who conducted us along a passage or avenue; one of them continuing to sound a bell the whole way, with a view of announcing to the sisterhood that man was within the precincts of the building, whose sight they were thus cautioned to avoid. Our three companions were extremely affable, and conversed with much animation. We arrived, after passing through a considerable part of the building, at the apartment where the organ stood, which was also a place of devotion, and ornamented with the figures of various saints. Creolean slaves soon came, to assist in the operations upon the organ, in which I was an equally awkward performer. Those slaves, unnaturally destined also to be here immured for life, were young and some of them very handsome. At intervals many other nuns came to the door and looked in by stealth. Some gradually overcame their shyness, entered the room, offered up their devotions, repeated their “Avi Marias,” and, by degrees, approached the organ, with which our attention _appeared_ to be absorbed. Nature so triumphed over superstitious habits that many of them became very familiar and lively. One of them sung part of an English song, which my companion had translated into Portuguese, he playing upon the organ as an accompaniment; the others appeared quite delighted, and shouted out “_Viva, viva_.” Upon some of them perseveringly urging me for an air, I gave them a verse of “God save the King,” which, on others coming into the room, I was obliged to repeat. The governesses joined in these occasional bursts of vivacity, and at other times took their stations in different parts of the room, apparently in the posture of devotion, and so situated that they could observe all that was passing. Upon all occasions of their coming in or leaving the room they bent the knee to the figure of Jesus. One of them directed my attention to the beautiful quality of the silk which constituted the vestments on the figure of St. John, and observed, several times, that he appeared _muito triste_ (very sad) that morning. I did not think proper to dissent from this romantic discovery; but I was a little astonished to find that she carried her superstition so far as to imagine that an inanimate figure could actually change its aspect, and, consequently, that it was endowed with vital feeling and thought. She next showed me a _menino Jesu_, (child Jesus,) richly dressed, with a silken band around the waist, from which was suspended an embroidered bag, containing, she said, a piece of the real bone of our Saviour. I ventured here not wholly to conceal my doubts; but she assured me it was so, and that the Queen, whose remains were deposited in the garden of the convent, brought it from Lisbon, and presented it to them: this was conclusive. No doubt they regarded us as pitiable heretics, one of them taking