For the first three years of my convent life, I passed the time in
the school department, without much anxiety of mind. I was gay and
thoughtless, my great trouble was to find something to amuse myself,
and kill time in some way. Though I treated all the school-mates with
kindness, and true Italian politeness, I became intimate with only one.
She was a beautiful girl, from the dukedom of Tuscany. She made me her
confidant, and told me all her heart. Her parents were wealthy, and both
very strict members of the Romish Church. But she had an aunt in the
city of Geneva, who was a follower of John Calvin, or a member of the
Christian church of Switzerland. This aunt had been yearly a visitor at
her father's house. She being her father's only sister, an affectionate
intimacy was formed between the aunt and niece. The aunt, being a very
pious, amiable woman, felt it her duty to impress the mind of the niece,
with the superiority of the religion of the holy bible over popish
traditions; and the truth of the Scriptures soon found its way to the
heart of my young friend. But her confessor soon found out that some
change was going on in her mind, and told her father. There were
only two ways to save her soul from utter ruin; one was to give her
absolution and kill her before she got entirely out of the holy mother
church; the other, was to send her to the Ursuline convent at Naples,
where by the zeal and piety of those celebrated nuns, she might be
secured from further heresy.
From this, the best friend of my school days, I learned more about God's
word, and virtue, and truth, and the value of the soul, than from all
other sources. There was a garden surrounded by a high wall, in which we
frequently walked, and whispered to each other, though we trembled all
the while for fear our confessor would by some means, find out that we
looked upon the Romish church as the Babylon destined to destruction,
plainly spoken of by St. John the revelator.
My young friend stood in great fear of the priests; she trembled at the
very sight of one.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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