emancipation from their draperies, these Sisters contrive to do everything, and to do it well, muffled in close caps and hanging veils, checked by starch and enveloped in folds, and yet to keep the health and strength that make their hard life possible. It may still be permitted to wonder whether even a Cardinal would not find the burdens of his fatigues increased if his head were encased in tight empesé linen, and his brows so bound as to prevent that relief of grasping his overworked forehead which the most ascetic of mankind permits himself. Constraint, doubtless, becomes a second nature in a Nun; but it is curious to find how lightly it is borne, and how the delicate feminine frame fares without ever "lying down," or resting a headache upon a cushion. Doubtless the immunity of Nuns from all the inconveniences of vanity helps them to bear those of their quasi-Oriental disguise and concealment. Nevertheless an audacious fancy may sketch for itself a future when a Pope at Chicago may legislate for Sisterhoods living under the ancient interior laws, but in the midst of new and Western exterior conditions, set free from much that must be a waste of strength. The cumbrous garments of Religious Women, as they wear them now, produce a stillness of manner, especially in public, which is very distinctive. A member of a begging Order told us how once, when she was on her quest in a draper's shop—her companion being occupied with the business and she waiting alone—a hurried shopman approaching from behind took her for
