Fernando's letters were exactly in the same strain with Lucilla's. He frequently mentions, that his friends in Spain had solicited him to accept one of the chief appointments in South America; but that he should think the whole world itself no recompense for being absent from his Lucilla. In his last, he reminds her of her vows, with the utmost delicacy and affection. He assures her that, without her, all situations will be equally miserable to him, and conjures her, in the most passionate terms, no longer to trifle with his happiness; for, that he should be obliged to yield to the importunity of his Spanish relations, unless me would again make Sardinia a Paradise, by alluring him of her constancy. Lucilla was soon informed how cruelly she had been deceived; but, far from complaining, she was almost overcome with joy at the proof of her lover's affection. From that time, she reassumed her former cheerfulness; and, with injuries sufficient to distract any thing less than an angel, I really believe she is the happiest person in the convent. Such are the comforts of religion, and so true is the adage--"Virtue is happiness," that Lucilla's thoughts now rise superior to the world; and, without offending the Deity by heat or impatience, she looks, with tranquil joy, for that moment which will be the commencement of endless bliss, when she and Fernando will be united in Heaven. I leave you to conceive, my dear Madam, how much her history increased the veneration I before felt for her. Villarias is my author. Her words, enforced by her expressive countenance, are engraven on my heart; but it is impossible to translate them. The youthful Marchioness is no enthusiast in favor of nunneries; but she has made me allow, that, to dispositions and misfortunes like Lucilla's, they afford a comfortable asylum. LETTER IV. TO CAPTAIN SMITH. Cagliari, September 1st. MY DEAR SIR, THE churches here are plainer than one expects in a Roman Catholic country; but many of them are beautifully neat. The altar-pieces are composed of coloured marble, with no other ornaments than plated candlesticks and artificial flowers. We have seen but few paintings, and very little sculpture. The piece which struck us most, was for its singularity as a religious ornament, in one of the chapels of the cathedral. It is a group, with two figures a little detached on each side; neither of whom convey any idea of decency, much less of religion.