The monasteries devote themselves to
the education of little monks. They are taught from an early age to
hold a wax taper, wear a frock, cast down their eyes, and chant in
Latin. If you wish to admire the foresight of the Church, you should
see the procession of Corpus Christi day. All the convents walk in
line one after the other, and each has its live nursery of little
shavelings. Their bright Italian eyes, sparkling with intelligence,
and their handsome open countenances, form a curious contrast with the
stolid and hypocritical masks worn by their superiors. At one glance
you behold the opening flowers and the ripe fruit of religion,--the
present and the future. You think within yourselves that, in default
of a miracle, the cherubs before you will ere long be turned into
mummies. However, you console yourselves for the anticipated
metamorphosis by the reflection that the salvation of the monklings is
assured.
All the Pope's subjects would be sure of getting to Heaven if they
could all enter the cloisters; but then the world would come to an end
too soon. The Pope does his best to bring them near this state of
monastic and ecclesiastical perfection. Students are dressed like
priests, and corpses also are arrayed in a sort of religious costume.
The Brethren of the Christian Doctrine were thought dangerous because
they dressed their little boys in caps, tunics, and belts; so the Pope
forbade them to go on teaching young Rome.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173