with the relations of one of them, I observed that the iron was double, the two gratings being some inches apart, so that even hand could not touch hand through them. I asked the reason of such double defence, begging to know whether, as all was such a paradise, it was designed to keep the ladies in, or to keep the gentlemen out. I was merrily answered on the instant, ‘O, Signor, one grating will keep the ladies within, and the other will keep the gentlemen without!’”--Pp. 177-180. Mr. Seymour obtained information of the most appalling character, from persons who possessed intimate acquaintance with these “Female Inquisitions” at Rome. Their testimony, therefore, could not be invalidated. He states on this point,--“A gentleman, who holds an official station in the papal court, and who, from the nature of his office, has been obliged to accompany the cardinal-vicar in his visitation of some of the nunneries, communicated to us, in private, the impressions created on his own mind. He was a man of years and experience--was the father of a large family, was a very domestic, amiable and religious man, for a Romanist--and certainly was the most respectable character, as an Italian gentleman, it was our good fortune to meet in Italy. He and his wife communicated many things which we could not otherwise have learned, and frequently, by introductions, put us in the way of ascertaining matters in which they themselves could not prudently appear. He used to say, that when the novices became nuns at an early age, as eighteen or twenty, they seemed to be sufficiently happy for two or three years; at least, that for that time there seemed to be nothing remarkable; but that when they became old enough to see and understand well what were the consequences of the step they had taken, and that now there was no hope before them, they soon gave way to sorrow and despair. He spoke with deep feeling of the effect of this on the spirits and appearance of the young ladies. He stated that the broken-hearted look--the shades of indelible sorrow--the lines of settled and unalterable sadness--the expression of resentment or despair--that characterised many of these young creatures, used to affect his heart, sadden all his best feelings, and trouble his very dreams. He could not think or speak of the subject without such feelings that tears would come into his eyes; saying, that it was inconceivable the number of nuns that went to an early grave under this system. Those who awoke to the reality of their state, and thought of all the ties of home and affection, and their exchange of all freedom for the dull monotony and useless employments of the cloister, soon pined and saddened, and sinking into despair, died of madness; while some others, like gathered flowers, plucked from their native gardens, where they might long have bloomed and gladdened the scene, soon faded and withered and died. He always said that this was the melancholy destiny of the